


A New Lust For Life

by QueenofDisaster



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Canon Disabled Character, High School AU, M/M, Mentions of Anxiety, Modern Setting, Polyamory, Recreational Drug Use, Threesome - M/M/M, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2018-10-24 15:00:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 45,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10744059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofDisaster/pseuds/QueenofDisaster
Summary: High school AUJohn Silver is enrolled into Maria Aleyne College by his foster parents, to give him a sense of structure and healthy socialisation.Trying his best to fly under the radar, John accidentally falls for the guy in his Advanced English class. The only problem is that he's got a boyfriend.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Just because they are enough high school AUs in the world and especially for this fandom. This is going to be a long haul kind of fic so get ready. ;) Also James, John and Thomas is my OT3 for life.

When John was twelve years old, in the heat of an argument, his foster father told him that John would either be dead or in prison by the time he was a man. 

With a overhanging gut, red face and forceful hands, John's step father was a snivelling shit of a human being. Their fights often reached levels of violence where the sheer volume of their screaming would often bring the cops to their doorstep.

It was not unusual for the boys in blue to make a visit to that house. John was a terror of a child. Being bounced from home to home since he was seven years old allowed for a lot of unsavoury characters to enter into his life. Older boy and girls who'd grown up in group homes, old enough to get into real trouble, young enough to slip underneath the line of the law. 

They weren't his friends, they were his associates in petty crime. Sneaking out of the back door, John would meet them at the parking lot behind the petrol station, where they were more often than not drinking cheap beer and smoking like chimneys. 

A few loud, boastful comments lead to everything from vandalism to breaking into a school. 

The local precinct knew them by name, they knew them by reputation. 

Constable Jameson was the first officer to respond to the call after John's accident. 

She'd always been somewhat sympathetic towards his situation. Every time she'd walked him up to his house, and his foster father had swung open the door with a white knuckled grip, his red face twisted in anger, her hand at the back of his neck always seemed hesitant to let go. 

First on the scene, Jameson had tried to soothe him as he'd started going into shock, bloodied hands scrambling over his thigh to try and somehow pull his leg free from underneath the wrought and mangled dashboard. 

"John, listen to me." She said firmly, brushing the broken glass from his shoulder. John's eyes were wide and blown black with panic and fear, but her demeanour remained steady. "You need to take some deep breaths. The fire and rescue will be here very soon and they'll cut you out of here, okay?" 

He could barely hear her through the pounding of blood in his ears. He cast another glance at the driver's seat where Matthew, one of the boys from his old home, was slumped against the steering wheel, the bone of his forehead caved in and pouring blood down his face like melting wax. 

John vomited all over his own lap. 

"Breathe, John." Jameson said firmly, but not unkindly. His breaths were gasping, burning things that shook his chest and brought more tears to his eyes.

Flashing red and blue lights flickered behind his closed eyes. Jameson tried to keep him conscious by talking to him, asking questions, but it was hard to not let darkness pull him away from that blinding pain. 

It took the fire department twenty minutes to cut him out of the car and soon he was in the back of an ambulance, a stranger keeping his chin tilted up. He didn't realise until after, that she had been keeping him from seeing what his right leg looked like.

The doctor told him that he was losing blood fast, and that they had to do an emergency amputation to save his life. 

Lying in his hospital bed, staring down at the sheets where it lay flat below his knee, John couldn't really find it in himself to care. Maybe it would have been better if they'd let him bleed dry. 

 

John was in the hospital for five weeks recovering. An additional three weeks of intensive physiotherapy as they taught him to walk again. 

Through all of that time, only his foster mother came to visit him, worry lines in between her brows. Even then he could see that she wasn't worried for him, she was worried about what social services was going to say when they found out. 

Social services helped pay for his hospital bills, his physiotherapy, and the prosthetic. 

After two weeks back at home, an agent from social services came and told John to pack his things. 

 

Still using crutches as he adjusted to his prosthetic, John hobbled his way up the pebbled drive of what would be his new foster home. Uneasiness curled deep in his stomach. His old foster parents were assholes, but in his experience, things could always get worse. 

The agent, an elderly black women with a soft voice and gentle smile, held onto his backpack for him. Before they could reach the doorbell, the front door swung open and a middle aged couple stepped through, eager smiles on their faces. 

"Hello! Hello! Come in, come in." The woman said, taking the bag from the agent to place it just inside the door. John cast suspicious glances at the couple. It was always like this, on the first day. They had to make appearances for the agent. 

They all waited patiently for him to walk through the door. He tried to keep his features in check, but it was often his one giveaway. The inside of the house was...nice. Surprisingly nice. Spacious and clean, with hardwood floors and plush couches. 

"I was cleaning all yesterday, I was so nervous." The women laughed. 

"I'm Rafael." The man stepped forward, smiling toothily at John. He didn't offer his hand for him to shake, and John was relieved. 

"Oh, dear, I completely forgot! I'm Julie." Julie said, looking flustered. The agent suggested they all have a seat around the living room to get introduced. 

Julie and Rafael were brimming with excitement, which John didn't really understand. Usually his foster parents wore strained smiles and as soon as the door closed behind the agent, they'd distanced themselves almost immediately. 

The agent was going over John's current medical care, including his pain medication and skin salves, and the future appointments that they would have to get him to. Throughout the entire conversation, John stayed silent, eyes cast down, his thumb rubbing through his jeans over the seam of his prosthetic. 

"John?" The agent said, drawing his attention back up. She smiled broadly. "If everything's alright here, then I think I'll go." John nodded, and stayed sitting while Julie and Rafael shook hands with the agent and saw her to the car. 

When they came back in, Julie and Rafael sat down with him again and told him about themselves. Julie used to be a primary school teacher and Rafael ("call me Raf.") was a contractor and John was their first foster child. They showed John to his room, which was unfortunately upstairs. John couldn't count how many times Julie apologised for that.

 

Sitting on his bed, in his new room, John felt adrift. Julie and Raf had left him to get 'settled' and unpack his meagre belongings in his new cupboard. He set his one photo he still had left of his mother, holding John as a baby in her arms, on his beside table, leaning against the lamp.

He missed her, more than anything. Laying in the hospital alone, listening to people in pain, watching people pass by his window, crying, he'd yearned for his mother's arms around him. But she didn't know where John was, she hadn't known where he was housed since she had to give him up. In the eyes of the law, she wasn't his mother. But nothing could ever have made him forget the feel of her hands brushing over his hair or the sound of her voice softly murmuring in his ear. 

Now, he was starting all over again. In a new place, with new people, without her.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time jump to the start of school.

Three Years Later 

Julie fussed over his navy and maroon uniform; fiddling with his tie and brushing imaginary lint off his blazer. She was more anxious about his first day than he was. 

John wasn't exactly thrilled about being enrolled in college after three years of homeschooling. Homeschooling meant freedoms, no uniform, no detention. It was all about the work, which he was good at. 

But, considering John's checkered past and frankly lacking social circle, Julie and Raf had sat him down and said that they thought it was best for him to spend his last two years at a real school.

He'd fought against it at first. But after three years under their roof, Julie had worked her way under his defences with her warm smiles and endless patience. So when she clasped his hand between hers, and cast that soft gaze his way, she knew she had won him over.

 

Now he was sitting outside the principal's office, his hair tied back away from his face and his uniform immaculate. A surprisingly young woman strolled out of the office to introduce herself as Eleanor Guthrie, the Headmisstress. Her blue eyes were calculating, and the twist of her mouth told him that she was not to be fucked with.

"Well, John, to help you settle in on your first day, we've got Muldoon here to show you around. He's in most of your classes so I'm sure you'll get to know each other very well." She indicated to the stubby student to her left, who gave John an awkward half wave. 

Taking this as a sign of some sort of friendliness, Miss Guthrie clapped her hands together.  
"Right, you've got a little while before your first class. Muldoon will show you to your locker." She said, hustling them out with a practiced smile.

 

Muldoon was easy enough to get along with. He showed him around the campus, to where all his classes would be and helped him get his combination right for his locker. Muldoon walked quickly, obviously eager to get this over and done with. John struggled to keep up with his prosthetic. 

Julie told him that they'd specifically asked for John's disability to be kept to those who needed to know, among the staff specifically. John was grateful. Starting in a new school after years away, John didn't want to be 'that kid'.

So when Muldoon questioned his slow start and odd gait, John plastered on a misleading smile and shrugged, complaining about a recent twisted ankle. Muldoon nodded, accepting his answer easily enough and continued on his tour. 

 

The shrill bell rang through the halls and John jumped, startled. He'd forgotten about bells. Muldoon told him that they had Biology now together and that they wouldn't want to be late. 

In Biology, John felt scrutinised. All the girls were whispering to each other, pretending not to be talking about him, but he could tell they were by their directive glances. All the guys on the other hand appraised him, head to toe, and either completely ignored him or stared him down. 

Muldoon gave him a reassuring smile and John reluctantly took his seat near the back of the room. 

The teacher swept in a few minutes later. She was a stout looking woman with dark hair that matched her eyes. 

Her voice was bubbly and thick with a Spanish accent when she spoke.  
"Good morning! Before we get stuck in, I'd like to welcome a new student to the class and to the school. Welcome, John." She said and John gave her a closed-lipped smile, sinking further into his seat. 

John was a smart kid, okay? That was not his long standing issue with school. The issue was his short attention span that often got him into trouble.

Additionally, Science was not really his forte, he found it quite numbing to be honest. So, instead he doodled along the margins of his page. He drew a little pirate, classic eyepatch and even a little peg leg to go with it. He smothered a smile, drawing squiggly lines for its hair to make it look like himself. 

Halfway through the lesson, the door opened and a guy wandered in. His uniform was messy, his tie loosened and the first few buttons left undone. Bright, copper hair was drawn back in a small tie, although a few wayward strands were left free. The guy impassively handed over his pink late slip to the thin lipped teacher and sauntered his way to the only empty seat left in the room, right beside John. 

"Fix up your uniform please, Mr Flint." The teacher groused, before returning to the lesson. 

John kept his head facing forward, not wanting to be caught staring. But, out of the corner of his eye, he could see 'Flint' eyeing him off, a small smirk tilting his lips. John ducked his head under the attention, thanking god he didn't blush. He kept his head down, eyes trained on his open book, for the rest of the lesson. 

 

Lunch period for a new student was...terrifying. John held onto his small Tupperware container in one hand, a book in the other. Just in case. Scanning the crowd for a friendly face, John felt examined and although no one seemed to be directly looking his way, he couldn't tamp down the sense that every one was watching him struggle like a pinned insect.

 

Close to resigning himself to a lunch sequestered away with a book in his lap, John was stopped by someone calling his name. 

"Oi, John!" Muldoon yelled, waving him over to his table. Apprehension turned his stomach to knots as he walked over and sat himself down. Muldoon thankfully made the introductions for Dooley, Joji and Logan, who gave their own small greetings. They were all friendly enough, if a bit dim. But they were good for a laugh.

When John cracked open his Tupperware, all eyes honed in on his spiced chicken and rice. With his fork hallway to his mouth, John paused. 

"What?" He asked, uneasy. 

"That smells amazing. Did you make that?" Logan asked, leaning closer. John held back a relieved sigh. 

"Yeah. My mum's Portuguese, she taught me how to cook a bit when I was little." He shrugged. 

"Fuck, I'm jealous." Dooley grouched, dropping his uninspiring peanut butter sandwich as if it had personally offended him. John couldn't help but smile at that. 

"So what school did you go to before here?" Muldoon asked, picking at his own food. 

"Actually, I've been homeschooled for the past few years." He replied, hesitantly. 

"No shit? I thought all homeschooled kids were total weirdos." Logan chuffed and John didn't know how to reply to that exactly.

Just then, the guy from his Biology class, the tardy one with russet brown hair and expressive green eyes, walked passed their table with a group of guys. It could possibly have been his wild imagination, but John would have sworn that that 'Flint' guy had smirked his way again. 

"Whose that guy? The red-head?" John asked, pointing the end of his fork Flint's way. 

"That's Flint." Muldoon rolled his eyes. "He's a fucking menace. Not a complete dickwad like Vane or Rogers, but not exactly a people-person, y'know?" He said. John's eyes followed Flint to a group of guys and a few girls lounging around on the grass field. Flint started talking to a pretty girl with long black hair and a tall blonde guy and John was startled to see a genuine smile grace Flint's face. It somehow looked foreign and yet completely natural at the same time. 

"Who are the guy and girl he's sitting with?" John furthered his inquiry. 

"They're in the grade above. Flint used to date Miranda, but he dumped her and started going out with her ex-boyfriend Thomas." John's eyes almost popped out of his head and Muldoon started laughing.

"Crazy, right?" He said and John looked back over at Flint, who was now talking to Miranda. 

"Are they still together?" He asked, eyes tracking over Thomas' face. 

"As far as I know." Muldoon shrugged. 

"Oh you bet they fucking are." Logan butted in with a huff. "I walked in on them practically fucking in the bathrooms last week." 

"Yikes." Dooley winced. 

"And what's worse is that they didn't even care! No 'Sorry, man for scarring you for life.'" Logan shook his head. 

John watched Flint out of the corner of his eye throughout the remainder of lunch. He even caught a glimpse of Flint leaning across to kiss Thomas, and he felt his face heat.

John had known he was gay since third grade when Randy Turner kissed him after swim practice, full on the mouth. 

But since then, being moved around to different foster homes and being pulled out of school after his accident, John hadn't had friends for a while and certainly no boyfriends either. 

Watching Thomas and Flint leaning against each other, comfortable even in front of all these people, he was surprised to realise that the feeling in his chest was jealousy.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Passing notes.

On his second day, John walked into his Advanced English class, a little less cowed and more comfortable moving around campus to all of his classes. 

English was his favourite subject, mostly because he'd always been good at it. Also, he found it more stimulating than just facts and equations thrown at him to absorb and regurgitate. 

He was surprised to see Flint waltz his way into the classroom and take the seat directly in front of John, even when there were empty rows behind him. John tried not to over analyse it, instead burying his head back into his book. His eyes were drawn up by Flint shucking off his blazer and hanging it over the back of his chair. When he stretched his arms across his body, John really tried not to watch the shift of muscles along Flint's shoulders and the shift of his spine beneath the thin cotton of his shirt. 

He really tried. 

 

The lesson was actually interesting, and the teacher was excited about the upcoming term, so that rubbed off on the students. The teacher, Mr Faulkner, was going through the semester outline, when Flint stretched his arms behind his back, slipping a folded piece of paper onto John's desk. 

John was so taken aback that he didn't even touch it for a long moment. When he did, he hid it in his notebook to discreetly open it.

'Your tapping your foot against my chair' was written in perfect penmanship.

John immediately ceased his fidgeting foot and glanced up, but Flint's eyes were firmly trained to the front of the class, although his open palm lay waiting behind his chair.

Biting down a smile, John wrote his reply below the message.

'You're*' Was all it read. When the teacher's back turned, he leaned over his desk to slip the paper back into Flint's hand. 

John could see the exact moment Flint read it, as a flash of teeth caught his eye. To his surprise, Flint picked up his pen and scribbled again, swiftly dropping it onto his desk.

'That was a test and you passed.' It wrote and John rolled his eyes.

'Bullshit.' He wrote back, and their hands grazed when he gave Flint the paper. 

Receiving it once again, John hid it beneath his book when Mr Faulkner passed by his desk. When the coast was clear, John flicked open the page and smiled. 

Flint had doodled a little arrow pointing forward with his name, and another arrow point down towards John and a question mark. 

A little charmed, John was quick to write his own name down and hand it back. 

He watched as James opened the note, then folded it up and put it in his pencil case with a quirked smile. 

 

At the end of the week, Julie was so relieved that John wasn't completely miserable at his new school that she made him a surprise dinner. Which he pretended to be embarrassed about, but mostly it just left a warm feeling in his chest.

At the end of the day, John preferred to leave his prosthetic up in his room and let skin breathe a little bit. Slipping into shorts, because he hated to have to pin up the left side of long pants, John hopped down the stairs to sit at the kitchen counter while Julie cooked. 

Wordlessly she handed him his little tub of moisturiser from the pantry and he took it from her gratefully. The stump underneath his knee had grown a thick layer of skin that was prone to calluses and dry patches. So, to keep the skin healthy and breathing, John had to routinely massage the scar tissue with a specific salve and then follow up with bio-oil to lessen the rosy colour of length of the scar. 

It hadn't been easy, in the beginning. When John first came to Julie and Raf, he was still riding on intense pain medication and would often have sleepless nights interrupted either by nightmares or a phantom pain in the lost leg. Through it all, Julie stayed patient and would often come down the stairs and sit with him while he watched TV when he'd given up to trying to toss and turn himself back to sleep. She offered him a quiet company, and when he'd eventually fall asleep on the couch, she would cover him in a blanket and let him stay there for the rest of the night. 

John knew that they loved him. Not many people would be willing to take in a thirteen year old kid in his condition and his past discretions as a petty criminal. 

But they did, and John didn't really know if he'd be the way he was if he hadn't come to them. He didn't know if he would have survived. 

Julie loved to hear about his day at school, no matter how mundane.  
"Meet any cute boys?" She asked, a teasing edge to her voice and he rolled his eyes. 

"I'm not having this conversation." John said, flipping over the page in his book. Julie handed him a glass of juice, eyes expectant. 

John took the bribe with a sigh. "Okay, there's one." He said and Julie grinned. "But, he's already got a boyfriend." 

"Dammit." Julie said, then shrugged. "Oh well, there'll be others. You're too cute to not get snapped up." She said, ruffling his curls. John chuffed a laugh, shaking his head. John knew what he looked like, but getting past that, John didn't believe that anyone could think of him that way once they knew he was broken. He didn't think it was even possible.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Thomas - Heartthrob no.2

John didn't meet Thomas until a few weeks into the term. They were both in the sick bay up at the office. John with a massive hangover from the night before and Thomas with a raging headache. 

There was only one bed in the room, and John was already in it. When the office assistance came in and put Thomas in a seat, handing him a glass of water and a paracetamol, John stared at him awkwardly. 

"Do you need to lie down? I've been here for a while." John said, half sitting up. His stomach churned at the movement and his queasiness must have shown on his face because Thomas huffed a laugh at him. 

"Please, you look like shit. Lie down." He said, amusement plain on his face. Embarrassed, John laid back down, part of him is greatly relieved. He didn't want to empty his guts for the third time that day.

After a long stretch of silence, Thomas spoke again.  
"You're new, yes?" 

John turned his head on the pillow to face him. "Yeah, been here since the start of term." He replied, eyes half open. 

"I'm Thomas, by the way." John wanted to say 'I know', but thankfully held it back. Instead he just offered his own name. 

There's a brightness to Thomas that John can't really pinpoint. Even when his head was pounding, there was a lightness to his expression and a genuine tilt to his smile that felt honest and wide open. 

"Are you liking it so far?" Thomas asked and John nodded. 

"Yeah, its very different to homeschool, I can tell you that." 

"Homeschooling? That's interesting." Thomas said and John chuffs.

"Is it?" His tone is disbelieving, but Thomas' responding smile is nothing but honest curiosity. 

"I find it interesting." Thomas' voice grew softer and John didn't really know how to feel about Thomas Hamilton. 

 

John woke up twenty minutes later, not really feeling much better than before. Groaning, he turned onto his side and opened his eyes to Thomas' wry smile. 

"You were making noise in your sleep." He said, eyes glinting. 

"Fuck, I wasn't speaking, was I?" John felt his cheeks heat and Thomas looked absolutely delighted.

"Nothing I could make out." 

"Good." John said, taking a sip of water to chase away the chalky, sour taste in his mouth. 

"Why, what would you be saying?" Thomas' tone was surprisingly teasing, considering he didn't know John at all. 

"Don't take advantage of the sick, Thomas." John said and Thomas grinned.

Sitting up, John's stomach dropped when his eye caught the glinting metal plate peaking out from beneath his rucked up trouser leg. His immediate though was how long had it been like that? Had Thomas seen? Quickly smoothing it down, John casted Thomas a quick glance. Thomas was looking down at his glass of water, at not at him, but John was still unsure.

He was not disgusted by his leg, or lack thereof. He had been, for a very long time, unable to even look down at that gaping empty space without his throat tightening and panic setting in. But he still did not want everyone to know about it. Because once people knew it was there, it somehow became their business. People's morbid curiosity came out and John just didn't want to deal with the questions and lingering stares that would occur. 

Thomas didn't say anything more. He didn't even indicate that he'd seen anything. But John couldn't know that he hadn't. 

Julie came to pick him up soon after and Thomas waved him goodbye, taking the vacated bed. 

"This wouldn't have anything to do with you stumbling home late last night?" Julie asked and John winced. 

"Possibly." John said and she tisked at him. 

 

The next day, walking into school, John felt paranoia itching across his skin. He was half expecting someone to come round the corner and kick him straight in his metal shin, just to watch him not react. Thomas seemed honest, but gossip was gossip, and people often fell under its spell unintentionally. 

John had alway been prone to anxiety, even before his accident. Now he felt he was walking on unsteady ground. Each glance his way felt like a sneer or a pointed gaze. 

With his head ducked in his locker, John tried to steady his breathing. He felt exposed. Like everyone could see his leg, even through his trousers. 

The clang of someone leaning against the locker beside his made John almost jump out of his skin. 

"Hello again." Thomas said, arms crossed over his chest. His smile was easy, and it was obvious he had no idea how close he'd just been to giving John a heart attack. 

John would be convinced that this was some sort of practical joke at his expense, if Thomas wasn't so damn honest and soft spoken. 

"Oh, hey." John said, smiling feebly. 

"So listen, I'm having a party this weekend and I'm asking if you want to come? It'll mostly be seniors but bring some friends yeah?"

"Yeah, of course." John nodded, relieved beyond belief that that was all he wanted to talk to him about.

Thomas' smile brightened significantly and John felt his own grow into something more genuine. 

"Hey." Flint came up to them, smirking at John, who willed himself not to blush under his gaze. Thomas' arm went around Flint's waist, pulling him close, and John didn't know where to look. 

"Hello." Flint said, voice deep and surprisingly warm. 

"I was just inviting John here to the party."  
Thomas said and John shifted nervously under Flint's intense gaze. 

"So it's at your house, yeah?" John asked. 

"Yeah, yeah. Hold on, let me get my phone." Thomas dropped his hand from around James' waist to pull out his phone. "Put your number in and I'll text you the address." John fumbled to type his name into Thomas' contacts, smiling secretly to himself when he saw Flint's contact had love heart emojis all around it. 

"Great." Thomas smiled. "We'll see you then." Flint took Thomas' hand and drew him away, Thomas waving to John as they walked down the hall.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's bad day :(

John' bad day started with a 3 a.m. wake up call, curtesy of his phantom limb. Sitting up in a daze of pain, John reached out to massage away the cramp, but only touched the cool, flat sheet where the source of his pain did not lay. 

Unwilling tears pricked in the corners of his eyes. Frustration boiling in his blood, John slammed his fist down on his pillow, immediately unsatisfied by the lack of shattered debris and loud noise.

He wanted to scream bloody murder and tear anything within reach to shreds. He wanted to huff and rage and hurt.

He could distinctly hear his own heartbeat throbbing in his ears. Frustrated tears dewed his cheeks as he tried everything to lose that phantom brush of pain and twisted muscle. He dug his thumbs into the meat of his left thigh, working out some of the knots below the skin. He tapped his open palm against the scar tissue of his stump, using more force when the sensation lingered. Yet, even when the pain subsided, the discomfort stayed put.

John sprawled back in the middle of his bed, exhaustion drawing his eyes closed, but his mind was awake. In the silence of the night, unwanted thoughts and images came to him in fragments. 

Thoughts about his mother, wherever she was. He wondered if she was safe, with at least a semblance of happiness. To the father he'd never had, had never known. What life would have been like if John had grown up with a family. Two parents who loved each other, and maybe even siblings. With them he would have still been whole.

He would've been normal. He wouldn't close his eyes and see shattered glass, fresh gaping wounds, or hear the sound of crushed metal and breaking bones.

If that truck, and its useless fuck of a driver, hadn't bypassed the red light, John would still have had a left foot and shin. If his friend Matthew, hadn't been distracted by the radio when he'd entered that intersection, his skull would still have been fully formed and he would've been breathing.

 

Suddenly he felt suffocated within the confines of his room that was filling its space with his demons. John tossed the bedding off of his body and shuffled to the edge of his mattress. Using the side table for balance, John hopped his way over to his crutch. Slipping his book under his arm, he quietly hobbled his way downstairs and into the living room. 

He sat on the couch with the lamp flicked on, while the rest of the house remained in darkness, and wallowed in his shame. He hadn't had to do this in so long. It had been months, nearly a year, of untroubled nights. Every once in a while he'd wake the next morning with a memory of an unsettling dream, but that was all. 

Now here he was, helpless to a thing that didn't exist anymore and a mind that wouldn't stay silent.

 

When Julie came downstairs at six, tying off her robe, John looked up at her with red rimmed, dry eyes. With a sad sigh she sat down beside him, drawing his head onto her shoulder to pet his hair.

"I'll call school." She said softly. John was so tired, his head was aching and Julie's gentle comfort wrought tears from his eyes because even after three years, John was still unused to this kind of care. 

With a kiss to John's forehead, she pulled a wool blanket up to his chin and told him to close his eyes and try to sleep while she made him something to eat. 

 

He slept on and off for most of the day, scrolling through talk shows and reruns of Judge Judy. Raf left for work around noon, promising John that he'd stop by the secondhand book shop John liked on the way home to pick him up something. 

"If you buy me another one of those god awful romance novels I will kick your ass." John said and Raf just laughed. 

"You know, telling me how much you hate it, is just going to make me want to do it more." 

"You're a child." John shook his head.

 

An alert on his phone woke John from his nap and he groaned, pawing around the coffee table. There was a text message, from a number he didn't recognise, that read:

'Hey! It's Thomas by the way. James and I noticed you weren't at school and were wondering if you were okay? And if you're still coming tomorrow?' 

John smiled, a little perplexed by the familiarity in his tone, but none the less, it felt nice to be worried about, or at least thought of.

'Yeah I'm still coming :)' He sent back, and got a reply almost instantly. 

'Fantastic!'

'Aren't you supposed to be in class?' It was only two thirty. 

'Who says I'm not? ;)' John chuffed, shaking his head. 

"What are you smiling at your phone for?" Julie asked wryly from behind him, and John reflexively locked his phone and put it in his lap. Julie's eyebrows rose further and John felt his cheeks heat. 

"Nothing." He said, shrugging. 

"Uhuh, who were you texting just now?" She asked, cocking her hip.

"Nobody...just somebody from school asking where I was." He replied, ambiguously.

"Right." She said, sarcasm dripping in her voice. Her hand came up to brush over his curls and she sighed. "You better shower before going out tomorrow. I could grease a frying pan with your head." 

"You're making me blush with all your compliments." Now it was his turn for blatant sarcasm. 

"I don't think it was me that was making you blush, darling." She said, walking away and John's jaw snapped shut as all retorts abandoned him.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rendezvous in a book store.

The next morning John felt a little less like the walking dead and more like a functional human being. Tying his greasy hair up into a twisted bun, John decided that he needed to get some fresh air after a full day wrapped up on the couch. Kissing Julie on the cheek as he left, John decided to walk down to the small square of shops and cafes a few blocks away. 

Unable to stop himself, John slipped into the two storey book store that smelt like mothballs and vanilla scented candles. Marcy from his Maths class waved at him when he entered, which he returned. Marcy had neon pink braces and hair about three foot long down her back. But she was also ten times smarter than anyone in their class, and was happy to help John with his maths homework. Which, to anyone who knew him, he desperately needed it.

Wandering through the stacks, John unconsciously started to make a pile in his arms, picking one from nearly every row he went down. 

Crossing into the crime thrillers, John stopped when he spotted Flint of all people, flipping through a paperback. He'd never seen Flint out of uniform, it was strange. He wore dark wash jeans and a forest green t-shirt that offset his auburn hair, turning it to flames. 

"Hey." John said, sidling up to Flint's side. John had to tilt his chin up to look into Flint's sea glass eyes when they focused on him. Flint smiled, so bright and genuine, that John felt it like a punch in the chest. 

"Feeling better?" Flint asked, leaning against the shelf. 

"Yeah, I'm fine." He said, holding his books to his chest. Flint's eyes dropped to the pile and amusement sparked in his eyes.

"Starting a library?" Flint smirked, and John flushed. 

"Oh, I might need to put some of these back." John chuckled. It was then that he realised just how drably he was dressed, in black stained jeans and a wrinkled navy t-shirt with his oily unwashed hair in a knot.  
He screamed internally, trying to tuck the stray curls behind his ears, even though it would not do much to help. 

"Thomas said you were still coming tonight though, right?" Flint asked. 

"Yeah, I'll be there. Looking a little better than this, I promise." He indicated to himself. Flint followed the motion with his eyes, sweeping over him and John shifted under his gaze. 

"That's setting the bar pretty high then." Flint said and John felt his entire face bloom red at the implication of what he'd said, ducking his head as he smiled. 

"I should probably go buy some of these." John said.

"Some." Flint added in and John bit down on his bottom lip to smother his dorky grin.

"I'll see you later." John said, backing away and Flint just kept smiling.

 

Usually Flint walked around the halls of school with a dour look on his face, sometimes downright thunderous. The only glimpse of a smile was when Thomas was in his sights. Seeing his curled lips and bright white teeth flashed his way, John didn't know what to think of it. All he knew was that when Flint turned that smile his way, his stomach did turns. 

 

"Another outfit?" Julie asked, crossing her arms and leaning against John's bedroom doorway. John shot her a glare, tucking his button up into his jeans and she held up her hands in acquiescence. 

"I think you should wear the grey shirt." She said, picking it off the pile of clothes on his bed and tossing it at him. 

"Hair out? Or tied up?" He asked, stripping out of his button up with a disgruntled sigh. 

"Out." She said, coming up behind him to ruffled his hair, that was still slightly damp from his shower. "It's getting a bit long." She commented, tugging on the end of one of his dark curls.

"I want it long." He shot back, slipping into his jacket as Julie rolled her eyes. 

"Alright, alright, don't bite my head off. Sweetheart, come here, you're looking all frazzled." She said, holding onto his shoulders. John blew out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding and nodded. He was nervous, and he couldn't really pinpoint why. 

He wasn't a stranger to the party scene per say. It had just been a while. In fact, it was before his accident, when he really thought about it. Nowadays he just went over to Anne and Max's, where they would watch trashy TV and play drinking games. With them he was comfortable. 

"Tell me I'm being irrational." John said and Julie gave him a closed lipped smile, cupping his face in her warm hands. 

"It's okay to be nervous. I know you don't really like crowded places. So just keep the drinking to a minimum, and let yourself breathe, okay?" John nodded, taking in a deep breath, letting it out through his nose. 

He told himself he'd be okay. It was just a party. It was the same people he saw at school everyday...just different. Where people got drunk and did stupid things and couldn't really remember what's an okay thing to ask someone or where personal space began.

"Tell me if you meet a boy. I want to know all about it." Julie said and immediately, without even a thought, Flint's face sprung up in his mind. His warm smile and a paperback in his broad hands. 

"You're such a gossip." John chuckled. His phone buzzed in his pocket, probably Max telling him to hurry the fuck up. "I should go." 

"Have fun." She kissed his cheek, nudging him out the door with a reassuring smile.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas' party - part 1

He'd asked Muldoon and his friends if they wanted to come to the party, but apparently they were going to the movies with another group of girls. So, unwilling to turn up alone like a loser, John had begged Max over the phone to pretty please come with him. Max groaned and resisted, but after a solid fifteen minutes of grovelling, she relented on the cause that she would bring Anne with her and that John wouldn't try and introduce them to anyone. 

To which John eagerly obliged. They didn't even have to speak, they just had to stand next to him. Otherwise he would have walked in and found a lone wall to lean back on, with a drink in hand, and would've just watched everyone else have fun around him. Thankfully Max saved him from that particular nightmare, and even offered to be their designated driver for the evening. John could've kissed her straight on the mouth for that, if it wouldn't earn him a black eye from Anne, of course. 

Walking into a party filled with his peers, flanked by not one, but two smoking hot ladies, John felt good. Confident. Maybe a rumour would start to swarm about him being a ladies man. What a joke. 

He found women objectively beautiful of course. He liked the range of body types and their soft skin and curves. But they happened to be severely lacking a certain appendage that he liked. So, no thank you. 

"Where do you go to school?" Anne sneered. "I'm surrounded by posh twats." She recoiled as a guy in a brand polo and ray ban sunglasses walked past her with a case of beer in his hands. John didn't know him by name, but even by the look of him, anyone could attest that he was a douchebag. 

"It's a private college. What do you expect? Besides, they're not all bad." John said, trailing off at the end of his sentence as he scanned the room. Thomas' house was...enormous. Every surface was sleek and expensive, and the ceilings were so high, you could stack two people on top of each other and they still wouldn't reach the top. It was like a show house from a lifestyle magazine, honestly. 

"Where's the beer?" Anne asked, looking ready to bail any second. 

"I think there's a table set up over there." John pointed into the crowded living room and in a second Anne was gone.

"So, mon cher." Max said, looping her arm through his to steer them away from the entrance and easy freedom. John was only a little jittery, but once he'd had a few drinks he knew he'd be fine. "How's the posh life been treating you? You still holding onto that V-card of yours?" She teased, tongue pinched between her pearly teeth. John tried not to blush at her words.

"Unfortunately, I'm still a card carrying member." He put upon a sigh and she laughed.

They found a two seater couch, by the bay window overlooking the front garden. John stayed standing, and waited for Anne to come back before going on his own search for a drink. 

People and flailing limbs were like a obstacle course to traverse through to the drinks. Even when he got there, he found the selection unfortunately lacking. Cheap, lukewarm beer and one, half empty bottle of Tequila. John decided instead to raid the kitchen for a secret stash of something, anything. 

He was up on his tip toes, arms above his head, rifling through the kitchen cupboards when a shadow sidled up beside him. 

"There's beer in the living room." Flint said, amusement glowing in his features. John dropped down onto the flat of his feet.

"That beer tastes like lukewarm ass." John said without really thinking. But by the deep chuckle that Flint returned with, he didn't think he'd minded.

"I brought some cider, if you'd like some?" He offered.

"Yeah." John replied, maybe a little to eagerly. "That would be great."

"It's up in Thomas' room, come on." Flint said, taking John's hand and steering him out of the kitchen. John casted wide eyed, frenzied glances around as Flint tugged him through the living room and up the stairs. He caught Max's eye from across the room and her jaw dropped. 

Thomas' room, much like the rest of his house, was luxurious and ridiculously spacious. There was an enormous four-poster bed smack bang in the centre of the room and John summoned all his will to try and not think about if Flint had ever been in that bed. 

Flint dropped his hand to rifle through a bag for the drinks. John frowned at little, he'd been enjoying the warmth of his skin. In the meantime, John ran his fingers over the spines of the books in the impressive bookcases lining Thomas' room. His heart was thudding with great force inside his ribcage. If he focused, he could see a very slight pulsing if his chest along with his heartbeat. 

"Here." Flint passed him a cold bottle. "Try it." John took a sip, aware of Flint's eyes on his the whole time. It bubbled across his tongue, sweet and crisp and he hummed. 

"That is a thousand times better." John smiled and Flint returned it, taking the bottle from his hands and taking a long sip. John couldn't help but notice his lips were right where his lips were. 

Flint went and sat on the couch in the corner of the room, angling his head to coax John over. 

"Who has a couch in their bedroom, honestly? This house is crazy." John joked, trying alleviate the unfamiliar tension in the room. John sat down beside Flint, feeling the heat radiating of his body. Very faintly, John could see the outline of Flint's pert nipples through his white cotton t-shirt. He looked away quickly before Flint caught him.

"There's a tv as well, in that bookcase." Flint said and John laughed incredulously. For a while they just sat, idly sharing the bottle between them.

"Thomas won't mind us being in here?" John asked and Flint smirked. 

"Thomas likes me being in his bedroom." Flint said and John felt his ears turn red. 

"Would he care that I'm here?" 

"No-" Flint shrugged. "He likes you." He said matter of factly. Speaking of the devil, Thomas swept into the room, cheeks ruddy with an alcoholic flush and a cheeky smile on his face. 

"Well hello, I've been looking for you two." He said, pulling James to his feet. "We're going to smoke out by the pool, you wanna come?" He asked John and he shrugged, following them out onto the back patio and down to the poolside where the noise from the party dimmed. 

At the glass pool fence, Thomas produced a small set of keys to unlock the gate. At John's amused and inquisitive look, Thomas smirked.

"Precautionary measures. I don't want anyone vomiting in my pool. Or anyone but me having sex in my pool house." Thomas said, loose lipped from the few drinks he'd already thrown back. Flint shook his head fondly at his boyfriend's antics. 

The pool was set down a slope from the overhanging back porch, away from the rest of the party. Sitting with Flint and Thomas at the pool's edge, he came to the realisation that they were very much alone together at that moment, and he couldn't help but feel like it had been planned that way.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John gets...comfortable around Thomas and Flint.

John's eyes grew comically wide as he watched Thomas deftly roll a joint, tongue peeking out from between his lips to seal the paper together. Flint took one look at John's expression and burst out laughing.

"That was my exact first reaction. Imagine that, Thomas Hamilton, straight A student, a recreational stoner." Thomas pushed him in retaliation, making him fall back onto his hands. He rolled his eyes, covering the end of the joint against the breeze as he sparked a lighter. 

Thomas' chest swelled with the first intake of sweet smoke. He kept it swirling around his lungs long enough to take effect, before letting it pour slowly from lips. A smile crept over his face as he passed the joint along to Flint. 

John stretched out his legs, unable to properly cross them with his prosthetic. Flint's hand brushed against his, sending a warm tingle up his arm. John ducked his head under Flint and Thomas' eager smiles. Holding Flint's glittering gaze, John sucked the smoke into his lungs, revelling in the warmth that spread through his limbs as a result. 

"Fuck, that's good." John breathed out and Thomas chuckled, leaning across Flint to take it back. The joint circled around the three of them for a while until they somehow ended up sprawled on their backs and looking up at the stars.

Thomas' head was resting on Flint's outstretched arm and John was laying on Flint's other side, their upper arms pressed together. 

"Truth or dare?" Thomas asked, his grin titling his voice. Flint snorted.

"Truth." He replied and Thomas hummed. 

"What celebrity would you sleep with?" 

"Is it a cop-out to just say Chris Hemsworth?" Flint said and John booed him.

"Boring. Okay, Thomas, when was your last sex dream and who was it of?" John propped himself up onto his elbow, confidence boosted by the drug floating around his system, making him feel...good. 

Thomas grinned up at him, something sparkling in his blue eyes.   
"It was about a month ago and, I'm not lying, it was about James." Flint's face spread into a smug grin.

"Fuck, I was hoping it would be something weird." John huffed, flopping onto his back. "Why's everyone doing truth? It's so boring."

"Fine then, do your worst." Flint said, shuffling to sit upright. There was a challenge in his eyes and the twist of his lips. 

"Fine then, I dare you to skinny dip in Thomas' pool." John crossed his arms. Thomas on the other hand was cackling, clutching at his stomach and chanting 'do it, do it, do it'. 

"Challenge accepted." Flint said, jumping to his feet. John rocked back on his elbows, watching with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as Flint wrestled out of his t-shirt. Flint nearly pitched over as the ground beneath him felt as if it were spinning on its axis. The only thing that stopped him was Thomas' hand of his waist. 

"Fuck." Flint said and Thomas smiled.

"Easy there." John smirked and with a pointed stare, Flint unbuckled his belt and tossed it at him for being a shit. 

Flint kicked off his shoes and in one swoop, he shucked off his jeans and boxers. John caught a glimpse of Flint's cock before he dived into the pool and he unwillingly made a small noise in his throat. Thomas cheered, stumbling around as he broke out into giggles. 

Flint resurfaced with a broad grin, slicking back his auburn hair. John swallowed, heart thudding in his chest as that grin turned his way. 

"Thomas? I dare you to join me." Thomas laughed, pawing with slow hands at his own clothes. John's breath seized in his chest as Thomas stripped and dove into the pool. 

When Thomas' head popped up out of the water, his entire face lit up with his delighted smile.   
"It's quite cold." He said, and his smile didn't dim. Wading through the water, Flint wrapped himself around Thomas, his arms twined around the swell of his chest. 

With his chin resting on Thomas' shoulder, Flint's dark, slightly hazy eyes pinned John to his spot. 

"Triple dare you?" His voice was a deep rumble that twisted something pleasurable in John's stomach. It took a moment for Thomas to register the words spoken right by his ear, but when he did his expression faltered. Disentangling himself from Flint, he swam towards the edge of the pool by John's feet. 

"You don't have to, John." He said softly and John's chin dropped. 

"You know, don't you?" John tucked his hair behind his ear, feeling heat unrelated to the weed or alcohol in his system flush his cheeks. 

"I didn't tell anyone, not even James." John looked over Thomas' shoulder at Flint who stood a few feet away, brow screwed up in confusion and worry. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to pry." 

"It's okay, really. I just didn't want it spreading around school." Thomas' cool, wet hand covered his and his expression was nothing but earnest. 

"I get that. You don't have to get in if you don't want to." Thomas' hand squeezed his and John smiled. 

"I do want to. Just...give me a sec, yeah?" John said and Thomas patted his hand before pushing himself away from the edge back to Flint. Thomas wrapped his arms around Flint's neck, a hand at the back of his head bringing him him close enough to whisper in his ear. 

John turned away, picking up the beer Thomas brought down with him and downing the whole thing. Next he picked up Flint's half empty cider and finished that off for him. He was about to do something he'd never done, they would forgive him for stealing their drinks, okay. 

More than buzzed now, John peeled his shirt over his head and laid it over the pool fence. Peeking over his shoulder, he was relieved to see Thomas and Flint too absorbed in each other to be paying him any mind. He unbuttoned his jeans and sank down onto the pool tiles. With shaking hands, John rolled his jeans to his knee and unstrapped himself from his prosthetic and cover. Using the fence to pull himself to his feet, well foot, John let his jeans and boxers fall to his ankles. Face flaming, as quickly as possible, he hopped to the edge of the pool and jumped in. 

When he resurfaced Flint and Thomas were cheering, smiles broad and genuine. John dropped half of his face into the water so that only his eyes were above. 

The pool light casted their faces in a shimmering blue light and now that they were in here, John didn't really know what to do. Thomas wrapped his arms around Flint's neck, laughing at each other. 

"Fuck, it's actually cold in here." John said, shaking water droplets from his hair like a dog. He drifted in slow circles, humming at the light feeling in his head that was making his limbs tingle.

"I'm very high." John noted. 

"Yeah, no shit." Flint chuffed, wading through the water with Thomas wrapped around him like spider monkey. 

 

They swam around for a while, before playing a game of marco-polo which was short lived considering Thomas couldn't stop laughing, ultimately giving away his position every time. 

"Are you gay?" Thomas blurted out, climbing onto Flint's back. 

"Was I that obvious?" John dropped his hair back into the water, swishing it around. 

"No. We just knew." Thomas said, resting his cheek on Flint's wet hair. Flint on the other hand was distracted with playing with Thomas' fingers. 

"Johnny boy!" Someone called out and John's heart tripped over itself at the reminder of where they were and the fact that just up that slope was their entire grade. 

But it was only Max, leaning over the fence and waggling her eyebrows.   
"I've been looking all over for you, my dear. I must say I didn't expect to find you here." 

"Hi." Thomas waved. 

"Hello, strange man on top of another strange man." Max said, eyebrows raising when Thomas started giggling. 

"Alright, well I promised Julie I'd get you home at a decent hour, so get your cute butt out." John swam across the pool and hopped up onto the edge, forgetting he was completely naked. 

Thomas squealed, cackling as he covered Flint's eyes with his hands. 

"Christ, John, clothes please." Max screwed up her face. 

"Maxine, a little help please." Max rolled her eyes, but stepped through the gate to help him up. He used his t-shirt to pat himself dry enough to slip into his prosthetic and jeans. Tossing his shirt over his shoulder, John waved them goodbye. 

"I'll see you guys at school." He said. 

"Bye, John!" Thomas yelled back. 

"Bye." Flint followed. Up on the patio, John glanced back at the pool to see Thomas' fingers in Flint's hair, devouring his mouth. Flint's hands, however, were well below the waterline. 

"Jesus." He breathed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response I'm getting from you guys is amazing! Everyone in this fandom is so nice!


	9. Chapter Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9 already? God damn, I'm not even a third of the way through this story.

Monday at lunch, Thomas hooked their arms together and told him that he absolutely had to sit with them, even if it was just for the day. John's eyes cut to Flint, who was on Thomas' other side. Sometimes Flint was difficult to decipher, merely based on his expression, considering he was quite an aloof character when not around Thomas. But Flint's eyes were earnest, a little hopeful, and that was what made John fight down the anxieties that still lingered, and let Thomas guide him out onto the field. 

Thomas and Flint's group were sprawled around the grass, half formed into a circle, and John felt a little cowed under their obvious interest in his presence. Settling onto the grass was a little difficult for John without the flexibility in his right leg. Luckily Thomas decided to keep their arms locked, so John could discreetly lean into his side to keep himself balanced. John gave him a small smile of thanks, which Thomas returned ten-fold. 

Miranda he knew by name, but the others he'd only seen in passing or in class. Those eyes he felt keenly. 

"Everyone, this is John, he's new. John, this is everyone." Thomas said. He got introduced to the whole group and they're surprisingly welcoming. Even Billy Bones, who was over six feet tall and with a serious case of 'resting bitch face', cracked a smile at him. 

Lunch was pleasant, and John found the whole group easy to get along with. John and Flint quickly got lost in a conversation about the hardcover copy of Jane Eyre underneath John's arm and out of the corner of his eye, Miranda's smile was unreadable. 

 

John began to sit with Flint during their classes together, and then with the whole group at lunch. He was still friendly to Muldoon and his group, but he wasn't with them long enough for his absence to really matter. Which was fine with both of them. They still talked during class and waved at each other in the halls. 

But now, he didn't walk close to the edges to avoid the swarm of people. With Thomas and Flint he was pulled into the masses and he was surprised to find it didn't make him as nervous anymore. 

During class, he remained perpetually the 'quiet kid' at the back of the room. The teachers didn't really mind, his work was good and he didn't distract the class during the lesson like most. In Biology and English, he and Flint spent their time passing notes. Both of them sequestered in the back corner, they were obscured from the teacher's view. 

At the front of the class, Mr Faulkner was outlining their assignment task. A reflective presentation on poetry that has lasted through time. Since it's a two person project, John drew the little pirate on a scrap piece of paper, squiggly hair and one leg. Underneath he wrote 'matey???'. Smirking to himself, John slipped the piece of paper on to Flint's desk. 

Flint's hand covered his mouth when he opened the note. Although no sound escaped him, from the tears forming in his eyes and the shaking of his shoulders, John could see how hard he was trying not to laugh. John grinned, chest swelling at the rare sight and the knowledge that he was the cause of such a thing. 

When Flint finally collected himself, he tore off a scrap from his notebook, scribbled his reply and handed it to him. 

'Aye' Was all it said, and John's grin widened. 

When the bell rang, John watched Flint fold his note and slip it into the front breast pocket of his blazer. Usually he would stuff their notes into his pencil case or crumple it up to drop into the bin by the door as they left. This time he didn't, and John didn't exactly know why, but it nonetheless made something soft and warm curl up in his ribcage. 

 

They met up at Flint's house a week later to start the project. John thought Flint's room was very cozy. Not small, but stuffed full of books and a plush bed with navy blue covers. It wasn't messy per say, just...lived in. John liked that. 

"I thought you'd have more books than Thomas." John said, his smirk tinted with a bit of cheek. 

"His father gave him half his library for his birthday. I buy my own, thank you very much." Flint retorted, sitting against his headboard scrolling through his laptop. 

"Ooh, sore spot." John teased and Flint rolled his eyes. 

"Fuck off." Flint said, although his voice lacked any malice. "Now, have we decided who we're going to talk about?" 

"I like Yeats." John said, eyes tracking over the few pictures pinned above the small wooden desk in the room. There was one of Flint, Thomas and Miranda at the beach, when John assumed Thomas and Miranda were still dating. He wondered if then, in that moment, Flint or Thomas knew that they'd end up together. Unintentionally, his eyes strayed towards the thickness of Flint's bare chest and the swells of Thomas' arms around Miranda's waist.

"Me too." Flint agreed, drawing John out of his reverie. 

They worked well into the afternoon until eventually Flint's father poked his head in to ask if he'd like to stay for dinner. 

"No, thank you. I should really be getting home." John smiled politely and he and Flint made plans to go to John's house tomorrow. 

 

The next day, after school, Flint volunteered to drive them over to John's and Thomas eagerly tagged along. John sat himself in the backseat, shrinking under Thomas' confused gaze.

"You can sit in the front, you know? I'm the third wheel here." 

"It's okay, really. I don't like being in the front, or in cars in general." He murmured and Thomas' eyes unintentionally turned towards his leg, before quickly darting back up to his face.

"We can pull over anytime if you need to." Flint piped up, looking at John through the rear view mirror. 

"Thanks, I'll be okay, though." John said. He was relieved when they didn't push any further as Flint keyed the ignition and pulled out of the car park. It still surprised him, their easy acceptance of...everything. Without a prying question. It was incredible, and he liked them even more for it. 

 

"John, is that you?" Julie's voice rang out from upstairs. John rolled his eyes, because honestly, who else would it be at this time of day. Coming down the stairs, Julie's face positively lit up at the sight of James and Thomas.

"Hello, hello." She said, grinning. 

"This is Julie. Julie this is Flint and Thomas from school." John made introductions. Thomas and Flint were very polite, and it was plain to see that Julie absolutely adored them. She liked to fuss over John, so adding two handsome young boys into that equation, Julie was one step away from forcefully adopting them herself. 

She insisted on making them snacks to take up to John's room. And although John was flaming with embarrassment, Flint and Thomas took her motherly attention in stride. 

Setting up in John's room, they were in closer quarters than usual, considering John's room was smaller than either Thomas' or Flint's. He and Flint were leaning sitting on the edge of John's bed while Thomas laid in a sprawl on the floor with a pillow under his head and one of John's books above his face. 

"Julie's nice." Thomas commented, ambiguously. "Is she like an aunt or something?" 

"Her and Raf are my foster parents." John replied, eyes on his laptop screen. Thomas only hummed in response, turning back to his book. 

"How long have you been with them?" Flint piped up beside him, his curiosity obviously piqued. John wasn't overtly opposed to speaking about himself and his checkered past...he was just unused to it. It took him more than a year for him to tell Julie pretty much anything about his housing before he'd been dumped on her doorstep. 

"About three years. I'd been housed in all different places since I was little. Now I'm definitely not going anywhere till I'm eighteen so...that's good I guess." John said, eyes darting across to Flint. 

"My mother was a good mum, she just had a lot of money issues and had to give me up." He felt he needed to add. Usually when people heard he was 'in the system', they assumed he'd been forcibly removed from a drug addicted mother or an abusive father. But, the only abuse he'd ever encountered was in the system. She was a good mother, he told himself. She was kind, and loving and she didn't deserve the life she'd ended up with. 

John jolted when Flint's hand clasped his, and Thomas had dropped his book onto his lap. Growing uncomfortable at his unintentional display of emotion, John ducked his head.  
"Sorry to purge like that." He said quietly. 

"It's okay, really." Thomas assured, sitting up with his legs crossed. "I had always wondered where you got your hair from. Is she Spanish?" He asked in an attempt to lighten this fog shrouding him. 

"She's Portuguese. She had, has, the most beautiful hair." Great, now he was getting upset. He sniffed, cheeks heating with embarrassment. The bed dipped beside him as Thomas wrapped his arms around him, one hand at the back of his neck, tracing soothing circles with his thumb. John relaxed into the embrace, face pressed to Thomas' shoulder. He usually didn't like to be touched, except for Julie and Raf, but with the scent of Thomas washing over him and the warmth radiating from his body, John surrendered easily into it. 

When Thomas pulled away, John gave a self-deprecating laugh, wiping under his nose.   
"I'll be right back." He said, shuffling off the bed. Grabbing a bundle of clothes from his cupboard, he hastily went into the bathroom and shut the door firmly behind him. 

Looking himself in the mirror, he splashed water onto his face to cool it down. This wasn't how you made friends, he told himself. He'd just make them uncomfortable if he talked too much about her or about his old house and what happened to him there and what brought him here. 

Changing into a pair of loose fitting blue jeans and a worn out creamy-tan coloured sweater, he thanked his lucky stars that he'd left his sneaker in the bathroom, because there was no way he was going back in there with one bare foot and one black plastic and metal fake. He'd already embarrassed himself enough, thank you.

Satisfied with the state of himself and the receding redness around his eyes, he dumped his uniform in the hamper and loped his way back to his room. 

While he'd been gone, Thomas and Flint had lost their blazers and loosened their ties. They were both now sitting back against the wall, a space between them. Their eyes darted up from Flint's laptop and Thomas waved him over. 

"Want to watch a movie?" He asked, and John's brow creased in confusion, although he did settle himself between the two on the bed. 

"What about the assignment?" John asked Flint, who shrugged. 

"We've got weeks to finish it. I don't really feel like doing any more today. Help us pick something." Flint placed the laptop on John's thighs, and Thomas crowded over him to look at the screen. Thomas' arm was flush against his own, as was Flint's on his other side, but he didn't feel suffocated at all, he felt comfortable stuck between them as they bickered lightly over what movie they each wanted to watch.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress

They'd gotten quite cozy on John's bed by the time he heard Raf come home from work. Flint's side was flush against his, from hip to foot, his arm settled over the seam where their thighs touched. When Raf poked his head in soon after, he seemed unperturbed by their closeness, and was instead more interested if Flint and Thomas were staying for dinner. After sending quicks texts to their parents, they were all drawn down to the dining room by the siren call of Julie's lasagna. 

They ate sitting around the table, wherein, as supposed light dinner conversation, Julie proceeded to ask a myriad of questions about Flint and Thomas' relationship. 

"Please, for the love of God." John begged, although Flint and Thomas actually didn't seem uncomfortable at all, more amused than anything. Besides Julie's prying, dinner was...nice. He'd always liked the idea of having dinner around a table, with loud talking and laughter. He'd never had that during his life. Sure sometimes he, Julie and Raf sat together for meals, but it wasn't the same with only three people around a big table.

After dinner, John walked them out to Flint's car, apologising for Julie's forthrightness. She was too used to John telling her every detail of his life, she was spoilt that way. Before Thomas hopped into the passenger seat, he hugged John again. It was longer than just a friendly goodbye, and when John raised himself slightly on his toes to hook his chin over Thomas' shoulder, the quirk of Flint's lips was ambiguous to say the least. John melted into the breadth of Thomas' chest against his, and his towering height. Standing flat on his feet, John's nose was level with Thomas' shoulder, a fact that Thomas seemed to be endlessly amused by.

They shared a small smile as they stepped apart and John couldn't stop the pinkening of his cheeks. Hopefully in the darkness they wouldn't be able to see. 

 

It took hours for John to fall asleep that night. For a while his mind was occupied with trying to recall every memory he had left of his mother. Eventually he began to wonder if what he was seeing behind closed eyes was even real anymore or just his mind taking images and morphing them into false memories. 

When that became a lost cause, John flopped onto his back with a huff. His mind drifted to the feeling of Flint and Thomas flanking him on each side, and the scorching heat of Flint's arm against his thigh.

He thought of Flint's intense gaze and Thomas' warmth and smooth, unblemished skin. Running a hand up his thigh and across the front of his underwear, he found himself already half hard. He squeezed reflexively, biting down on his lip to stifle a small noise. 

His thoughts unintentionally drifted to the night of Thomas' party, by the pool. And the glimpse of Flint's naked thighs that rippled when he walked and his soft cock surrounded by dark red hair. John wondered what the weight of him would feel like, pillowed on his tongue, growing thicker between his lips. 

What would it take to break Flint's composure? Surely Thomas knew. 

Taking himself in hand, he tried to imagine Thomas dropping to his knees for his boyfriend, unzipping his school trousers and taking his cock into his soft mouth. 

John let out a shaky breath, stroking himself leisurely to the image of Flint's hands cupping the back of Thomas' head, fingers threaded through his golden hair. 

He came with a sharp intake of breath, spilling over his fist and dribbling onto his stomach. As he drifted down from his high, shame and embarrassment started to creep in. They were his friends, he shouldn't be thinking of them that way, either of them. He didn't want to wedge them apart, it would kill him to do so.

 

As they grew closer, John, Flint and Thomas started a ritual of spending their afternoons at either the cafe down the street from the college, or at each other's houses.

At the cafe, Thomas didn't ever let anyone, especially John, pay for their own coffees. John kept trying, he really did, but Thomas would sneakily hand the girl at the register his card while John was still looking up at the menu. 

"You've got to stop doing that." John said, sliding into the booth seat. Thomas grinned over the rim of his mug as Flint looked on with an amused quirk to his lips. 

Beneath the table, Flint's knee rested against his, and John lifted at eyebrow at him. In response Flint mirrored his expression, shifting slightly in his seat so that he could press their knees more firmly together. 

"Ugh." Thomas sighed, dropping his head onto Flint's shoulder. "I have to study for econ." He groaned, rubbing his eyes. 

"You poor soul." John said and Thomas poked his tongue out at him. 

"Also, you stay away. I need to study and you'll just distract me." Thomas said and a sly grin spread across Flint's face. 

"How so?" 

"You'd distract me with your beautiful face." Thomas said, kissing him wetly on his cheek. Flint tilted his chin so that their lips brushed together and with a little sigh, Thomas kissed him softly. 

Across the table, John's heart tripped over itself. They hardly ever kissed in front of him, and when they did, usually it was when they were drunk and or stoned and therefore past the point of caring who was watching them. Those times still stuck out in his mind late at night. 

"See, you're very distracting." Thomas hummed, pecking Flint on the lips before sliding out from the booth. "Bye, darling. Bye, John." Thomas cheeked, shouldering his bag. 

After Thomas left, a comfortable silence descended upon their table, during which time John struggled to hold Flint's piercing green gaze. If he did, he'd get lost in it and potentially do something stupid. 

Without a word, Flint rifled through his bag and slid a navy hardback across the table towards John. With a puzzled tilt of his head, John picked up the book. It was a copy of 'The Picture of Dorian Gray'. And it wasn't some secondhand copy with frayed edges and yellow pages, it was brand new.

"You said you'd never read it." Flint piped up. 

"That was months ago." John said, awe plain in his voice. Flint shrugged, stirring his coffee, but John could see a faint redness seeping across his cheeks and down his neck. Biting down on his bottom lip, John ran his fingers over the indents on the front cover, heart fluttering behind his ribs. 

"Thank you." And he really meant it.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oh dear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a short chapter this one. But I'll make the next one a bit longer to make up for it :). I've just come to realise that there is an entire John plot line that hasn't even begun yet and I'm already in the double digit word count. Oh well.

It'd been five months since John was enrolled at Maria Aleyne and he didn't think he'd ever been more content with his life. School was going well so far, he was actively trying not to get detentions, unlike before. He stayed the silent participant in class, but his grades were good, better than they'd ever been. He was still easily distracted, nothing would ever stop his wandering mind unfortunately. His spare time outside of school was mostly spent with Flint and Thomas, who'd steadily and seamlessly become his best friends.

Then he had to go and ruin everything.

John was at Flint's house where they were studying for their upcoming Ancient History exam. After a few hours, John's head started to ache with all the dates and information he was cramming into it. When he began to drift, Flint made the executive decision that they would take a much earned break. 

Sitting side by side at Flint's desk, there was a long pause in their conversation where John just looked at him. Flint's hair had grown in the past months, so that now russet strands prominently framed his downturned face. He wondered what it would feel like slipping between his fingers, or brushing over his skin. 

Flint looked up at him through pale eyelashes and a small, knowing smirk twitched his lips. Without thinking, John leant forward, steadying himself with a hand on Flint's knee to brush their lips together. Flint twitched slightly away, before moving closer, his hand coming up to cup John's cheek to kiss him more intently. John's mind filled with cotton balls as butterflies filled his stomach. Flint's lips were petal soft, and bloomed open for him with a barely audible sigh. 

When Flint's searing tongue ran across his bottom lip, John's mind finally caught up with him. What on Earth did he think he was doing?

Horrified, John jumped back in his seat, wincing as it screeched across the floor. Without looking at Flint's startled expression, he scrambled to gather his books and stuff them in his bag. In haste he sprung from his seat and practically ran for the door, trying to ignore the sound of his name being called out behind him.

He walked home from Flint's house, which took over an hour. Slamming the front door behind him, John stormed his way up the stairs to his room, leaving a gaping Julie in his wake. 

Throwing his things to the floor, he sat on the end of his bed, face in his hands and burst into tears. 

His breath quickened and his whole body trembled as sobs broke free from him.   
His eyes were raw and red, and there was snot running from his nose when Julie knocked tentatively on his door. When he didn't protest, she stepped into the room, worry etched into her features. 

John felt her weight dip the mattress beside him and she tucked his curls behind his ear.

"What's going on, sweetie? I've never seen you this upset." John sniffed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. Julie's hand rubbed comforting circles between his shoulder blades. 

"I was at Flint's and-" He hiccupped and Julie's eyes narrowed.

"Did he do something to you?" She asked, her tone dead serious. 

"No, no - he didn't - I...we kissed. I kissed him." John dropped his chin.

"And he got upset with you?" 

"No...worse, he kissed back." John shook his head, biting down on his trembling lip. Julie sighed beside him, handing him a tissue from her pocket. 

"I'm such an idiot. They're going to split up because of me." John sobbed. "Thomas is going to hate me. Flint is going to hate me. The first time in my life I have actual friends and I ruin it." 

"I'm sure you haven't ruined it, sweetheart." Julie soothed, but John just shook his head, resisting.

"I can't face them. I can't face Thomas." Julie gathered him in her arms and just let him cry. Eventually Raf came to investigate their absence, leaning against the doorframe. 

"Hey, kiddo, you want me to bring up your dinner?" He said and John nodded, cheek still pressed against Julie's shoulder. 

 

The next morning, Julie took one look at the sad mound of blankets that was her foster-son and went to call the absentee line. 

John spent the day in guilty misery, wrapped in his duvet at all times, even when going downstairs to grab some food before returning to his crypt of despair. He watched sad movies with the lights out, his phone exiled to the bottom drawer of his bedside table. He didn't want to know if Flint had tried to contact him, or if Thomas had filled his voicemail with angry messages of betrayal. He would deal with that whole mess at a later date. 

For now, he sat swaddled like a baby, shoving double choc cookies down his throat to eat his feeling away as he watched 'The Man in the Moon' and cried. 

Julie came in that night while he was watching 'Marley and Me' and turned on the light, exposing his decrepit self. She settled on the bed beside him with a sigh.

"Are you going to school tomorrow?" She asked and he gave a non-committal shrug. 

"You know what I think? I think you need to face them, and sort this all out. Otherwise you're just going to make yourself even more miserable, hiding away like this, agonising over it." She had a point. "And who knows? It couldn't possibly be as bad as you think."

"I kissed Thomas' boyfriend." John reiterated with an eye roll.

"And believe me, it's not the end of the world. You may have made a mistake, but so did Flint. And whatever happens when you see them, know that if they even say one mean thing to you, they're going to have to deal with me." John chuffed at her absurdness, feeling his resolve crumbling. 

"Okay, I'll go."


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get...cleared up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally

John felt sick to his stomach as he walked through the labyrinth of halls and classrooms. He was back to traversing the fringes of the hallways, out of the crowd. He kept his head down, afraid to even look up in case they were near. 

He should've stayed home. Ducking his head into his locker, he squeezed his eyes shut to stave off the nausea bubbling in his stomach as he breathed in slowly through his nose, out through his mouth. 

He swore loudly when a familiar hand touched his shoulder.  
"John, where have you been?" Flint's green eyes were wide and worried. John slinked back out of his grasp, confused. With a sigh, Flint gently took his arm and steered him away from his locker, down a dead end hallway. John knew what he was going to say. He was going to tell him to leave him and Thomas alone, that their friendship was over and that their kiss was a mistake. He knew it was a mistake, but somehow hearing it from Flint's lips would surely break him.

"I'm sorry." John blurted out, covering his face with his hands. "I know I'm an idiot, for doing what I did. I know you're with Thomas, and I should never have even thought about it. He hates me doesn't he?" John said, voice cracking. Flint looked taken aback by his outburst, a line forming between his brows. 

"John, listen to me." He said, drawing his hand away from his face to hold it gently in his own. "Thomas isn't mad, I'm not mad. The only thing we are is worried, since you decided to just drop off the face of the Earth." 

John's brow furrowed, eyes flitting to their clasped hands. Sensing his confusion, Flint sighed.

"I can tell you're not convinced." The bell rang out above them and Flint let out a frustrated grunt. "Alright, meet us behind the science building at lunch, yeah?" Flint asked, releasing his hand and John nodded, although he was still confused. Flint nodded, disappearing into the crowd of students heading to homeroom. 

"What the actual fuck?" John exclaimed aloud to the empty hallway. 

 

Lunch rolled around all too quickly and John was wracked with nerves all over again. What if this all was a rouse to get him alone to rage at him or hurt him? No, they wouldn't do that. He was not even sure Thomas was capable of actual rage.

Rounding the corner, he found Flint and Thomas leaning back against the brick wall. The science building was set at the back of campus, too far away for people to sit there for lunch, which meant that they were alone. 

"Jesus, you're alive." Thomas exclaimed, smiling at him. Actually smiling. 

"Yes." John said, lamely, taking cautious steps towards the couple. God he hoped they were still a couple. 

"You still have no idea what the hell is going on do you?" Flint asked and John shook his head slowly.  
"Thought so, you look like you think we're about to hit you." Flint sighed. John tried to make himself relax, but his shoulders wouldn't drop. 

"Alright, we need to clear this up right now." Thomas said. "John, you kissed James." He said it so bluntly, so plainly, John winced.  
"James kissed you back and you ran off before he could explain. He told me everything and we've been trying to get a hold of you since then." 

"Explain what, exactly?" Thomas didn't seem phased at all by the sequence of events he'd just spouted. 

"Explain to you, that it's okay." Flint said, with surprising warmth. 

"You mean you forgive me?" John asked, hope blooming in his chest. Thomas stepped in front of him.

"There is nothing to forgive. What James was going to tell you was that it is okay with me. We've talked about it many times before yesterday." Over Thomas' shoulder Flint's eyebrow twitched up. 

"Talked about what? Me kissing Flint?" John asked, ears burning. 

"Well, yes and other things. About me kissing you." Thomas said and John's eyes were saucers. 

"We both like you, John. We have for months." Flint said, like he hadn't completely blown John's world on its axis. 

"So...you both want to kiss me?" 

"Very much so." Thomas smiled warmly. "But I understand if you don't see me that way, you can continue with James-" John silenced him with his mouth, cutting him off mid sentence.

Thomas let out a gasp, lips surrendering beneath his. John was inexperienced for sure, but eager all the same. He stepped further into Thomas' space, backing him against the rough brick wall as Thomas' hands came up to hold his waist. 

Pulling back, Thomas' light blue eyes blinked open slowly, a smile broadening his lips. John turned his head to see Flint, staring at them with heavy eyes and a stunned expression. He supposed it was quite bold, for him.

John blushed red all over, fingers touching his wet lips, fully aware of the way Flint's eyes tracked the movement. He stalked toward them, his hand joining Thomas' on his waist and John bit down on his lip. 

Flint kissed him and God, it'd only been a couple of days, how had he forgotten how good this felt? He was pressed closer to Thomas, whose laboured breaths he could feel against his cheek as Flint implored his mouth with his tongue. John whimpered at the sensation, fingers clenching in Thomas' button up. 

Under the onslaught of Flint's lips and the warm solid body pressed against his front, John could feel himself hardening in his trousers and he moaned into the kiss. 

"We've got class in ten minutes." Thomas said quietly and they broke apart, catching their breath. John was beaming, his expression reflected in Thomas' smile and Flint's smirk.  
"We're going over to mine after school." Thomas said, his arm circling around John's back to pull him into an embrace. John kissed him again, just because he knew it would be welcomed. 

"Okay, I'm not going to maths with a boner thank you very much." John laughed, drawing away. Thomas let him go reluctantly, grinning broadly. 

"Meet us out front after school. I'm driving." Flint said softly, pecking him on the lips before taking Thomas' hand and all but pulling him down the path, both of them casting shy glances over their shoulders as they walked.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's happening guys

John dodged the swarms of people pouring out over the school's front steps, eager to make it out quickly. Bag slung over his shoulder, John couldn't hold back the sheepish smile that crept over his face when he saw Flint and Thomas already waiting for him. 

Wordlessly Thomas hopped in the front seat, allowing John to comfortably slip into the back. It was only a short drive to Thomas', wherein John got an earful of Thomas'...eclectic taste in music. 

Thomas' mum wasn't home, and wouldn't be for a few hours at least. All John had ever heard of Thomas' father on the other hand was that he was an old prick who spent all of his time working overseas and pretending his son didn't exist. But Thomas didn't seem all that upset about it, honestly, he was better without him.

So most of their afternoon study sessions or movie marathons took place in an empty house. But now, things were different. Stepping into Thomas' house, knowing they were all alone to do...whatever they liked, sent a little thrill up his spine. Shedding their blazers, and ties, they set up in the media room. It was a dark space with a large plush couch facing the biggest tv John had ever seen, and sliding doors to effectively cut it off from the rest of the house.

John blushed every time Flint looked his way and every small smile Thomas gave him. They sat and flicked through the tv for a while before Thomas got up to grab them some snacks. 

John sent a quick text to Julie telling her where where he was and she sent back almost immediately an ecstatic row of smiley faces.

Next to him, Flint pulled the tie from his hair, running his fingers through the loose strands to move it into place, his attention focused on the tv. John's eyes trailed over his profile, and the fingers carding through his fiery hair. 

Flint smirked, gaze darting over to catch him staring and John ducked his head, cheeks burning. He startled when Flint nudged his chin back up with two fingers. John's lips parted open as Flint cupped the side of his neck, warmth tingling his skin. When their lips touched, John had the thought that he could easily become addicted to this. This softness and warmth was so unfamiliar to him, these shy smiles and burning hands. 

John tried to imitate what Flint did, and by the tightening of his grip and the puffing breaths through his nose, John thought he was doing alright. 

Flint's lips were a slick delicious glide against his own, the occasional nip to his plump bottom lip making him press closer with a moan. John's hand touched Flint's chest, and through the thin material of his shirt he could feel his pounding heartbeat against his palm. 

"James, I wasn't even gone for very long." Thomas said wryly, shutting the door behind him. Flint smiled into the kiss, darting his tongue out to swipe across the bow of John's lips and John clutched at his shirt. 

"If you'd seen his face, Thomas, you would understand." Thomas laughed, setting down his armful of snacks onto the coffee table. Flint continued his gentle assault of John's mouth, sucking on his tongue and pulling moans right from his chest. He heard Thomas' breath catch and felt Thomas sit beside him, his hand coming to rest high up on John's thigh. 

John parted from Flint and turned to Thomas' bright gaze.   
"Are you still okay with all of this?" He asked and John nodded, pulling Thomas in by his collar. Thomas kissed him softly, both hands coming up to card through his curls. And it felt so good, John suddenly became very aware of the situation urgently pressing against the line of his zipper. 

Subtly, John tried to pull a cushion into his lap. 

"Enjoying yourself?" Flint's amused voice whispered in his ear, raising the hairs along the back of his neck. John absolutely flamed, ducking his head in embarrassment. Thomas' hands immediately cupped to his cheeks, turning his head up. 

"No, no, no, don't be embarrassed. It happens to us all the time." Thomas soothed, peppering his lips with light kisses. 

"Sorry." John murmured. 

"Don't be, it's not as if we're...unaffected." Flint said wryly, shifting in his seat. John chuffed, sitting back against the back of the couch and you know, not half in Thomas' lap. They continued to watch tv and binge themselves of sweets until Thomas' mother returned home. Flint drove him home and insisted on walking him to his door even as John teased him for it. On his doorstep, Flint cupped the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss that made him stretch up onto his toes for more.

"Bye." John said breathlessly as Flint headed back to his car. Over his shoulder Flint grinned and John leant back against his front door because for a moment he didn't trust his one good leg to not crumble beneath him. 

 

John practically floated into his house, biting down on his lip to quell the giddy noise bubbling in his chest. He wanted to scream and jump up and down. He needed to tell Max, she was going to freak out. 

"Hey, have you eaten?" Julie asked when he walked past the kitchen. John shook his head, unable to keep the smile from his face and Julie reflected it, picking up on his mood.

"See? I told you it wasn't as bad as you were thinking. So, you're all good?" 

"Yes." John said, and he was sure his eyes were all moony. 

"Better than fine?" Julie cautioned, eyebrows rising. John flushed, walking up to his room without answering.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Flint was the first one to kiss him at school. It was only two weeks ago that they shared their first kiss, and since then John had spent every waking moment thinking about them and how long it would be before he got to kiss either of them again. 

He was obsessed with the tease of Flint's lips and the scorching heat of Thomas' tongue against his own. He'd never wanted like this before. It was often a cause for distraction during his days. 

In between classes, John changed over his books for his extra study period since he wasn't required to do P.E. Sometimes having one leg had its perks okay. 

"Hello." Flint leant against the locker beside his.

"Class is starting." John teased, even though there was still a mass of lingerers (mostly seniors) in the hall. 

"It's compulsory art. I'm not going to miss anything vital." Flint shrugged, stepping a bit closer. Close enough that John could smell the faint remnants of cologne. But it wasn't Flint's brand, it was Thomas'. John's cheeks heated at the thought. His heart started to thump harder in his chest at Flint's close proximity. Partly because of the shadowed look on his face and partly due to the eyes all around them. 

Between one moment and the next, Flint kissed him. It was quick, but more than a peck. John's eyes widened as Flint just grinned. Out of the corner of his vision he could see people do a double-take and a few whispers passing through a group opposite them. 

"I'll see you at lunch." Flint's mouth settled into that equally frustrating and gorgeous smirk as he sauntered away, leaving John pink and quite in shock. 

 

During his study lesson in the library, Muldoon broke off from his English class to slip into the seat opposite him. John glanced up from his open book, brow arched in question. 

"Hey." Muldoon said, haltingly. 

"You okay?" John cautioned and Muldoon inched closer over the desk. 

"I thought you should know there's some rumours going around about you." Muldoon said and panic flushed through John's body and he slammed his book shut. Immediately his thoughts went to his accident, someone somehow found out about it. 

"Tell me." He said, tersely. 

"Well...I don't really know how to edge around it. But people think that you broke Flint and Thomas up and now you're dating Flint." John almost laughed, he really did. 

"That's...interesting." John said instead and Muldoon's brow scrunched.

"So? It's not true, right?" Muldoon asked. 

"I didn't break them up. But I am dating Flint." John said, and Muldoon sputtered.

"What?!" He exclaimed, only to be promptly shushed by half the library. 

At a much lower level, Muldoon continued. "That doesn't make any sense. That's like...contradictory." 

"Not necessarily, since I'm also dating Thomas." John said, a smug tinge to his voice. 

"I severely underestimated you, John." Muldoon shook his head. 

"Most do." John grinned and amusement glinted in Muldoon's eye. 

 

John had been at Maria Aleyne for almost two full terms, and through that whole time, he'd only talked to maybe half his grade. Which he was absolutely fine with, in fact, he preferred it. He wanted to coast through his last two years of schooling well and truly off everyone's radar. 

Turns out that beginning a 'three-way' relationship with two of the most popular guys in the school...put you on people's radar. People John had never spoken to, from different grades even, kept coming up to him before class started, in the halls and even in the bathrooms, to ask him about the rumours. Each time he didn't deny it, and he tried to stay polite, but by the time lunch finally rolled around, John was feeling overwhelmed.

Before any groups could settle on the field, John darted through the crowd and made a beeline for the offset science building. Breath coming in fast, John folded back against the brick wall and slid down to the ground. 

He felt hot, his skin stretched too tight across his body and his shoulders tensed up towards his ears. 

He didn't want this attention. He hated the eyes that tracked every move he made. It made him feel small, and self-conscious. With eyes on him, it would be easy for someone to notice the faint lilt in his walk or catch a glimpse of metal and plastic when his trousers slipped up as he crouched down to tie his shoelaces. It would be so easy to see. And it would be just as easy for it to spread. One exciting thing happened and the whole school could know about in the space of half an hour.

Then the questions and confrontations would never end. They would just take on a different tone. One of morbid curiosity masked as sympathy or genuine concern. He just wanted his life to be his, and nobody else's. Just his. 

"John?" A soft voice spoke above him. Turning his gaze from his knees, John felt a sob take hold of his chest at the sight of Thomas and Flint's worry etched faces staring down at him. He didn't let it escape, thank god, sighing deeply to mask the release of tension. 

"Miranda said she saw you come down here. Can we sit?" Thomas asked, and John marvelled at him and his unyielding patience. John nodded, not trusting his voice to remain steady if he spoke just yet. They both sat cross-legged opposite him, and already their prolixity was unwinding knots in his shoulders. 

"Are you upset with us? I'm sorry I didn't ask if it was okay to kiss you - I just..." Flint let his sentence trail off as he shook his head, obviously battling with himself. 

"I'm not. I wanted you to. It's just...everyone else." John sighed. 

"Why? Because they're talking about us?" Thomas asked. 

"Talking about me. Talking to me, asking questions and just constantly looking at me." John raked his hand through his hair, a tic that usually only came out when he was stressed. 

"Are you okay?" Thomas said, so softly. 

"It's just...overwhelming. I'm not used to it." John admitted. "After this-" John tapped against his prosthetic. "- I got really good at dodging people's attention." 

He'd never directly acknowledged his prosthetic in front of them before. Yet it still didn't seem to phase them. 

"Didn't work on us." Flint said, a roguish smile flashing his bright white teeth. 

"Yes, we noticed you right away." Thomas agreed, shuffling closer. "Flint saw you first, unfortunately. He told me that I absolutely had to see the new guy." John beamed as Flint slightly turned his face away to hide his embarrassment. 

"Yeah?" John said. 

"I could tell straight away he wanted you." Thomas said, a wistful note to his voice. "First time I saw you...wow." 

"Stop it." John blushed. 

"I'm serious! You were so gorgeous I couldn't believe it." John felt warm all over and when Thomas' hand touched his knee, John swayed forward into his space. Thomas smiled, teasing the touch of his lips against John's, drawing a disgruntled little whimper from him. 

"Thomas." John sighed and he watched as Thomas' pupils expanded at the sound. 

"Oh." Thomas shuddered, tilting his chin to seal their lips together. John's skin sparked as Thomas kept coming back, kissing him until all previous thoughts left him. 

"Better?" Thomas asked against his lips and John chuffed, pressing their foreheads together. 

"Much." John breathed, leaning into the heat of Thomas' palm on his cheek. Thomas and Flint each took one of his hands and pulled him to his feet. Well aware of how red his face was, John let Thomas loop their arms together and walk them back up to his locker. They chose not to sit with the rest of the group, just for today. Instead they ate lunch in a small circle, their knees pressed together and their smiles broad and unyielding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very soon a well known antagonist will work his way in ;)


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Silverflint sleepover :)

Flint and Thomas promised that they wouldn't kiss John during school unless he instigated it. That didn't mean that they stayed away from each other. At all. On the contrary, every moment they were around, at least one of them was touching him. Usually it was Thomas linking their arms or clasping his hand. For Flint it seemed wholly unintentional. It was a scorching hand at the small of his back or his fingers twisted in the end of John's tie when they were close enough. John didn't draw attention to it, even though he wanted to tease him for it desperately. But he didn't want him stop. 

By then, most of the school had come to their own conclusions about them and after a couple of weeks they weren't the centre of attention anymore. They could sit together at lunch, with John's head resting on Flint's thigh and they'd barely get a second glance. 

But this didn't apply to everyone. John noticed it almost immediately. It was one group of seniors. When John was alone, he could feel their eyes on him and every time he looked up, they were murmuring to each other while casting side glances his way. John's response was to curl away from their gaze, and find some way to escape. He only recognised one of them. He only knew Woodes Rogers by name. 

John didn't know why they would be targeting him for any reason other than some sort of objection to his relationship with Flint and Thomas. He'd never done anything to warrant their resentment or their barely disguised comments as they passed him in the hall. 

John resolved just to ignore them and hope that eventually they would lose interest. 

 

With Flint's arm around his shoulders, John lead the two of them to the stone steps dropping down to the car park. Rogers and his friends were lingering at the foot, and John cringed at the sight of them. Don't do anything for the love of God. 

As they neared the last few steps, Rogers pointedly sneered their way and John felt Flint tense up against him. 

"Problem?" Flint spat at them, his glare severe. As they passed by, Rogers only smirked in their wake, further aggravating Flint. Rogers stared at them all the way to Flint's car. Without Thomas with them, John would feel like an idiot sitting in the back by himself, especially knowing he was being watched. Fighting against his nerves, John quickly slid into the front seat and strapped himself in. Flint was still seething. But his gaze softened when he glanced at John, who gave him a crooked smile even as he clutched to the seatbelt across his chest. 

Two streets down Flint pulled over. At John's questioning look, he cocked his head to the back.  
"Go on." He said and John let out a relieved sigh, quickly jumping in the backseat. Straightening out his hands, the joints along his fingers throbbed from how hard he'd been holding onto the strap of his seatbelt. 

Flint was watching him, tension between his brows and John leant over the middle console to kiss him, successfully smoothing out that line.

 

Julie kissed John and Flint on the cheek when they came inside, immediately herding them both into the kitchen to force feed them. Julie was well and truly in the loop about their relationship as she was a shameless gossip. The day after John had first kissed Thomas, she made him pancakes for breakfast and fattened him up until he split and poured out all his secrets. 

"Where's Thomas? You boys are joined at the hip these days, it's strange to see you without him." Julie said, washing up while they ate at the counter. 

"He had a group project to do for Chem." John said through a mouthful of bread, earning a pointed look from Julie. 

"Poor bastard's stuck at school on a Friday." Flint said, and John grinned at him. 

When Julie finished washing up, she dropped his cream and bio oil onto the counter in front of him. John knew he should tend to his leg. He'd been wearing his prosthetic more often than not lately, since he spent his free time with Flint and Thomas. He shouldn't care. They've both seen his leg. Although they were both high at the time. 

Flint was obviously trying to not look interested and failing miserably.  
"I'm just going to go get dressed. I'll be right back." John said, touching Flint's arm as he passed.

 

Up in his room, John changed into an oversized sweater and shorts. After a moments hesitation, John slipped off his prosthetic and cover. The scar that ran across the bottom of his stump never seemed as jagged and pink as it did in that moment. The skin around his knee where he leg ended was patched with dry, irritated skin. 

Grabbing his crutch from under his bed, he pulled himself up and tried to swallow the nervous lump rising in his throat. When he made his way back downstairs, Flint was sitting on the couch in the lounge room, flicking through the tv channels.  
"Hey." Flint said, smiling beautifully up at him. 

"Scooch over." John said, dumping the cream onto the coffee table and dropping onto the couch, blushing lightly when Flint automatically tossed an arm around his shoulders. 

"What's this for?" Flint indicated to the two tubes. 

"I have to moisturise my leg every other day otherwise this will happen." John touched the edges of the few dry patches. 

"And the oil is for the scar?" Flint asked and John nodded, rubbing a dollop of the moisturiser across his knee and underneath his stump. Flint watched on silently, his curious gaze not as oppressive as John had been expecting. 

"Spare some? I've got dry elbows." Flint grinned, bending his arms and pushing his elbows into John's face as he batted them away, laughing. 

"I'd actually noticed that." John said and Flint's eyebrow quirked. 

"Really?" Flint said and John bit down on his lip as he rubbed excess cream onto Flint's elbows. 

"Yes. So flaky." John shook his head and Flint scoffed, nudging him with his shoulder. 

"Ass." Flint said warmly.

 

After a couple of hours of tv, John ended up dozing on Flint's shoulder, lulled by his radiating warmth and the cheek pressed against the top of his head. The sound of Raf kicking the front door shut behind him, drew John out of his slumber. 

Flint's broad hand had settled low on John's right thigh, his thumb absentmindedly stroking just above his knee. John tilted his chin up and caught Flint's eye.

"How long was I asleep?" John asked, ending on a yawn. 

"Not long. Maybe twenty minutes. Is this okay?" Flint asked, cocking his head towards his hand which was now just an inch away from where his leg came to an abrupt end. 

"It's alright." Flint let out a small relieved breath, kissing the space between John's brows. 

"Hello, boys." Raf greeted as he walked past them on his way to the stairs. "Where's the blonde one?" 

"Knee deep in sulphuric acid." John said.

"Sounds like fun." Raf chuckled. 

 

John was sitting up in bed, fiddling on his phone and waiting for Flint to come back from the bathroom. Raf and Julie had gone to bed hours ago, and now the whole house breathed silently. Under the covers, John was only wearing his boxers, deciding to keep his jumper on to at least give a semblance of coverage. 

When Flint padded bare foot into the room, closing the door softly in his wake, John groaned internally at the sight of him. Charcoal sweatpants clung to the curve of his thighs and when he walked the material gathered over his cock. The worn out tank hastily thrown on exposed the swell of his shoulders, enhanced by the dim light throwing shadows across the dips and hard lines of his body. 

John felt heat roll through him in waves, blood gathering along his cheeks. Flint seemed oblivious as to how incredible he looked as he wandered over to his bag to grab his phone charger. 

"Come here." John said quietly and Flint's eyes glittered. 

"Here?" Flint smirked, kneeling on the side of the bed, but he was still too far away. John pouted and Flint's smile grew. "Oh, do you mean here?" He asked, slyly slipping one leg over John's thighs and settling his weight on his lap. The breath whooshed out of him, hands coming up to hold onto Flint's thighs. 

"You know that's not what I meant." John scolded stretching his neck to plant a kiss on Flint's jaw. Broad, soft hands cupped his flushed cheeks and guided their lips together. A tinny moan spilled out of John and Flint ate it up, sucking his plump bottom lip into the wet heat of his mouth. 

Pulling back from Flint's slick mouth, John's eyes fluttered open, a soft sigh filling the small space between them. Flint smiled, pressing his lips briefly to John's damp forehead before sliding from his lap and onto the bed beside him. Chest swelling, John turned onto his side and tangled their legs, bringing them flush together. 

They fell asleep that way, with Flint's arm curled over his waist and John's head tucked under Flint's chin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really making you wait for the smut aren't I? :D very soon I promise


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Transition into a SilverFlintThomas sleepover ;)

"Who calls people anymore?" Was how John answered his phone when Thomas' name flashed up on his screen. 

"Hopeless romantics." Thomas crooned into the receiver and John grinned, feeling like a preteen girl as he rolled onto his back on his bed. "It's classic." 

"Do you do this to Flint?" John asked.

"Hmm, yes. Although our calls tend to go a different route." Thomas' all but purred and John's face heated. 

"Oh really?" 

"Oh, yes. James is quite filthy." Thomas giggled and through the phone John heard a brief scuffle and a sound of protest that he assumed was Flint. 

"Now James is embarrassed." Thomas laughed. "Alright, alright. He's glaring at me now. Okay, so here's the deal. I've got a free house for the weekend and we were wondering if you'd like to stay over?" John took a second to answer, first burying his giddy smile into his pillow, feeling like a fool. 

"Yeah. Who's making me dinner?" Thomas chuffed and faintly he could hear him repeat it to Flint. 

"James says that he's not letting either of us near the kitchen. For some reason he thinks I'm going to burn down my own house." 

"How rude." John teased. 

"I agree. So get you cute butt over here so we can gang up on him." John snorted.

"Right now?"

"I'm sending James to come get you." Thomas said. "Go on dear-" He said to Flint. "-our boy awaits." John smiled at that, biting down on his bottom lip to quell his giddiness. 

"I'll see you soon." John said.

"Can't wait." 

 

"The whole weekend? What about school on Monday?" Julie asked, eyeing off his already packed duffel. John put on his most innocent, pitiful expression that Julie used to melt for. 

"I've got my uniform. I'd be home Monday afternoon." John said in haste, leaning over the kitchen counter, fingers linked together to beg. 

"Will his parents be home?" She asked, hands on her hips. 

"Yes." The lie spilled out of his mouth so easily. It didn't feel good to lie to Julie, but unfortunately it was severely overwhelmed by his eagerness to spend the weekend with Flint and Thomas. Alone. Julie's eyebrow raised, and it was obvious she did not believe him at all.

Instead of immediately shutting him  
down and sending him back upstairs, she sighed deeply and pulled out a drawer to rifle through. John's eyes nearly popped straight out of his skull when she pulled out a sealed box of condoms and placed them on the counter before him. Jesus, Mary and Joseph. This was mortifying. 

"I'm assuming you know what those are?" Julie asked as John's brain tried to reattach itself to his body. 

"Yes, I haven't been living under a rock my entire life. TV and the internet exists for this exact reason. So you don't have to elaborate." For the love of all that was right with the world, if she picked up anything out of that fruit bowl he was going to scream.

"Fine. But you're not going unless you take them. I know teenage boys. Just make sure you-" 

"Yep, great, all good." John rushed to interrupt, stuffing the box into his bag.  
Successfully dodging Julie's aborted attempt at a sex talk, he practically ran out the front door to get away, grabbing his crutch by the entryway as he left. He didn't feel safe until he was locked inside Flint's car and pulling away from the curb. 

Flint gave him a questioning stare through the rear view mirror in response to his beet red face and horrified expression. 

"You wouldn't believe what just happened to me." 

 

When John told Thomas about his near escape, his absolutely non-helpful response was to pitch over in laughter until tears formed in his eyes. Flint had only smirked, but he could see he was working hard to contain himself.

"You don't understand. It was torture." John moaned, dumping his bag and crutch onto the floor of the media room.

"Surely it wasn't that bad." Thomas rolled his eyes and John scoffed, bending down to rifle through his duffle.

"Not that bad? She gave me these for Christ's sake!" John said, thrusting the blue box into his face. Thomas took the offending item, curiously reading the packaging.

"Regular? Does she think so little of us?" Thomas said, a perfectly devious smile cutting his face. Flint swerved past him, a bowl of popcorn held at his chest. 

"Not very high expectations." Flint added on and John flamed a dangerously dark shade of red. 

"Alright. Enough teasing." Thomas said, snaking an arm around John's waist to pull him close enough to kiss.

Kissing Thomas was very different from kissing Flint. Thomas liked to tease with soft touches and shallow pecks across his mouth before plying further. With Flint, all that intensity was focused. Flint kissed like he never wanted it to end, like he didn't want to even breathe because it would split them apart. They were equally thrilling. 

"Better?" Thomas breathed against his lips and John rolled his eyes, spinning out of his grasp to collapse next to Flint. Flint wordlessly offered him the bowl and John grinned, kissing his cheek and taking the popcorn from his fingers and popping it in his mouth. 

They were halfway through a B-grade horror movie when Thomas spoke quietly in his ear.  
"Does your leg hurt?" Thomas motioned towards the crutch at their feet, expression both curious and concerned.

"No, it's for when I take this off." John said, rapping his knuckles against the top of his prosthetic. Thomas nodded, reaching for his lap to paw around the popcorn.

"Do you only take it off to sleep?" Thomas continued and with anyone else it would feel like they were prying. But from them, it felt like they were trying to show him that they didn't care that he was missing half of one leg, they didn't try to pretend it didn't exist. Because they seemed amazingly comfortable with it. John had never met anybody who wasn't disabled or didn't have a close relationship with an amputee, that acted that way.

"Not necessarily. Sometimes it's more comfortable." Thomas nodded, fingers trailing over the delicate skin on the inside of his wrist. A tingle worked its way up his arm, raising goosebumps along his skin and by the small smug smile Thomas wore, he could see it. 

Thomas titled his head to graze his lips over the shell of John's ear. "I wonder how responsive the rest of you is?" He whispered, his warm puffs of breath tickling across the skin of John's neck. John sucked in a sharp breath between his parted lips, arousal tightening in his stomach. Out of the corner of his eye, Flint's hand paused, popcorn between his fingers halfway to his mouth. 

"Did I miss something?" Flint asked and Thomas grinned, his hand leaving John's wrist to slide over the inside of his thigh. His palm felt like a brand through the material of his dark wash jeans. 

"Nothing, dear." Thomas said sweetly, squeezing John's thigh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut next chapter I promise


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein this fic finally lives up to its explicit status ;)

Hot water sluiced over his skin, wrapping him in a cocoon of steam. Thomas' shower was enormous. With both arms stretched out, his fingers only brushed against the cold glass surrounding him. But he could hold himself upright with one hand grounded against the tiled wall before him. The pounding water drumming across his shoulders unwound some of the lingering tension. His body was relaxed, but his mind was racing because just across the hall, Thomas and Flint were waiting for him. In Thomas' bed.

He wasn't worried. Just...nervous. Which he thought was pretty understandable considering a) he was about as virginal as they came and b) nobody outside of doctors and his foster parents had seen him without his prosthetic. Well, that wasn't quite true, Flint had seen it. But that was a different situation altogether. They were just watching TV, it wasn't anything...intimate. 

Stepping out of the shower, John balanced himself against the sink to slip into an oversized t-shirt and one of his nicer pairs of boxers. Towelling off his hair, he tried to settle his nerves. He knew that he didn't have to do anything if he didn't want to do. They were both very upfront about that. They didn't expect anything from John that he wasn't willing to give. If he became uncomfortable or self conscious he could just ask them to stop and they would. He knew they would.

John tucked his crutch under his arm and swung his way back into Thomas' room. Apparently they'd gotten slightly impatient whilst waiting for John to finish up. Flint was shirtless, the broad expanse of his back rippled as he leant closer to suck bruises along the pale canvas of Thomas' throat beneath him. Thomas' head was tossed back in bliss, spine arching up into the sensation and delicate fingers running over Flint's bare skin. 

At the sound of his crutch hitting the hardwood floors, Flint rolled from between Thomas thighs to sit up. Flint's lips were already flushed a tantalising pink that John ached to taste. With both sets of eyes on him, John ducked his head, damp curls falling across his cheeks. 

"You're incredible." Thomas breathed, eyes bright in the lamplight. Flint nodded in agreement, his focused gaze running over him like a physical touch. 

"Shut up." John blushed. All he heard was the rustling of sheets before suddenly Flint was standing before him, hair mussed and eyes dark.

"You'll never see yourself the way we see you." He said quietly, arms snaking around his waist. John's lips parted to protest his statement, but before he could utter one word, Flint swept him up in a blinding kiss. Distantly he heard his crutch clatter to the floor, but he didn't care, he was too occupied by the tongue invading his mouth and setting his skin alight. John moaned, fingers burying deep in Flint's russet strands to hold him close. John's toes curled against the grain of the wood beneath his feet as Flint revamped his definition of what a kiss really was. 

 

Suddenly, Flint's hands were beneath his thighs, hoisting him up to wrap his legs tight around his hips. John felt the blood rush from his head as, without breaking their tryst, Flint carried him over to the bed and set him down on his back before stalking his way back between his open thighs. John panted, his nails digging into Flint's scalp when their hips aligned. Flint was already hard, straining against his sweats and rubbing deliciously over John's hardening length. 

"Oh, fuck." John moaned, head falling back against the mattress. To his left Thomas chuckled, laying himself out next to John. Flint ground his hips in tight figure-eights that were driving John absolutely wild. In an embarrassingly short amount of time, John was already aching in his boxers.

"Thomas." John gasped, reaching out for him. 

"God, I love the way you say my name." Thomas said, cupping John' cheek and kissing him, nipping along his bottom lip, making John arch forward. John's hips twitched up as Flint planted scorching wet open mouthed kisses across his neck, sucking the thin skin until reddish marks bloomed. He was going to be covered in bruises by tomorrow. 

"Hmmm, can we take this off?" Flint asked, fingers tucking under the hem of John's shirt, exposing his belly. John nodded, wriggling out of his shirt and tossing it away. Flint swooped back down, giving a deep pleased grumble when their naked chests pressed together. 

Flint shuffled slightly down the bed, biting kisses along John's newly exposed skin, paying close attention to his dusky pink nipples. John gasped, cock throbbing as Flint laved over his peaked nipples. 

Next to him, Thomas was biting down on his bottom lip and cupping himself through his briefs.

"You're going to kill me." John wheezed through panting breaths. Flint chuckled, kissing his way back up to his mouth. 

"Can I taste you? Please." Flint panted and John groaned, taking his face in both hands and bringing their mouths together. 

"God yes." Flint cracked a salacious smile and shuffled down the bed so that the width of his shoulders bumped the insides of his thighs. 

John's cock was straining against the material of his boxers. Flint's lips trailed light kisses across his belly and hip bones, his fingers tucking under the waistband of his boxers to work them down his legs. Thomas' hand rubbed over his chest, a soothing touch to distract him from his bare figure.

"Why am I the only one naked? This isn't fair." John pouted. Flint grinned up at him, biting down on the seam of his thigh. John shouted obscenities, writhing beneath the heat of Flint's mouth sucking a deep bruise over where his teeth sank in. 

"Fucking hell." John wheezed, digging his fingers into the meat of Flint's shoulders. Slick lips grazed the sensitive head of his cock and John's eyes rolled into the back of his head. Words and intelligent thought escaped him as Flint's hand encircled the base of his cock to suck the tip into his silken mouth. 

"John." Thomas said breathlessly in his ear, tonguing the shell and making John tremble. Thomas' warm palm on his cheek gently guided his chin to turn towards him. John whimpered, simultaneously from Flint sucking his cock further into his mouth and the sight of Thomas bare beside him. John had no recollection of when Thomas had taken his clothes off, but he wasn't sorry to see them go. Where Flint was thick with muscle, Thomas was lean, and covered in pale, unblemished skin. His cock was flushed a deep red, laying hard against his stomach, leaving a pool of precome. 

Flint bobbed his head between his legs, drawing pathetic mewls from John's throat. He wasn't going to last, they couldn't expect him to. Not with the way Flint's lips stretched obscenely around his length, or the sultry stare Thomas aimed his way. It was impossible. 

"Fuck." John gasped, a familiar, yet more intense feeling swirling low in his gut. He curled his fingers in Flint's hair, tugging on his ears as a warning. But Flint refused to pull back, tongue swirling over the sensitive head, dipping into his slit. 

"Come on." Thomas urged, eyes bright and blown black. John's thighs tensed around Flint's head, a shout working past his gaping lips as he spilled into Flint's eager mouth. His body flushed hot, and he trembled through the aftershocks of the best orgasm of his short life. 

"Mother of God." John said once his brain came back online. Flint chuckled, pressing soft kisses up to his knee and briefly across the scar cutting across his stump. John's breath hitched in his chest, stroking Flint's flushed cheek. There was a tenderness to his green glass gaze that fluttered something deep inside him. To his right, Thomas squeezed their clasped hands, thumb brushing over his knuckles. And John knew then, that he was head over heels in love with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they're not done quite yet ;)


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The smut continues

John watched with wide, lust blown eyes as beside him, Flint flipped Thomas onto his stomach, his broad hands parting his thighs. He squeezed the perfect pale globes of his ass, thumb dipping into his cleft briefly, drawing a startled moan from Thomas. 

John rolled onto his side, limbs heavy and a sated smile plastered across his face. Thomas grinned at him, eyes drifting shut as Flint kissed his tailbone. John's gut clenched at the sight, the implication of what he would do next. But John and Thomas too, were still not wholly prepared for when Flint licked a stripe across Thomas' hole. 

"Fuck." Thomas groaned, fists clenched in the sheets as Flint buried his tongue in his ass. Jesus Christ. From John's vantage point, all he could see was Flint's forehead and scrunched brow as he concentrated on drawing animalistic sounds from Thomas' throat. Arousal burned hot across John's body. Thomas' hips rolled like waves back against Flint's wicked mouth. 

The whole bottom of Flint's face, from nose to chin, was wet with his own saliva and his lips were obscenely red and puffy. Thomas was panting, squirming down against the friction of the bed. John felt like he'd swallowed his own tongue. This couldn't actually be happening before his eyes, could it? But the cry that spilled from Thomas when Flint worked two thick fingers into his hole, was all too real.

 

Flint used his grip on Thomas' hips to lift him up onto shaky hands and knees. Thomas' head dropped low between his shoulders when Flint pushed into him. John cupped his flushed cheek in one hand, thumb swiping over his slick bottom lip. Thomas' usually sparkly clear eyes were like murky glass, swirling black with desire. John sucked in a whimper between his teeth as Thomas let his thumb slide into his scorching mouth. His teeth set into his first knuckle when Flint thrusted forward, rocking Thomas further up the bed. 

John's gaze dragged down the bow of Thomas' spine, the light blonde hairs along his skin shining in the dim light. The plush curves of his ass, where they met with the sharp cuts of Flint's freckled hips, was mesmerising. 

"James." Thomas moaned, canting back into Flint's steady thrusts. Flint's expression was pure bliss, eyes half mast and teeth sunk into his bottom lip. God, what it must feel like, to have someone like that. John's blood rushed at the thought. 

The sound of their skin slapping together was downright obscene. Yet it couldn't compare to the breathy moans and whines Thomas was letting out. One wide palm pushed down on the small of Thomas' back, angling his hips so that each deep thrust rubbed across his prostate. Thomas grunted, dropping his forehead onto his folded arms. John ached for the feeling of a cock pressing deep inside him, touching and stretching him in all the right places. He'd used his fingers many times before, but each time he found that spot, his fingertips barely grazed across the bundle of nerves, yet each time he would come almost violently, biting down on his pillow to stifle his whimpers. 

"Fuck. John, stop looking at me like that or I'm going to come." Flint said through gritted teeth. John's head swelled and he grinned lecherously, turning onto his back. His cock was hard once again, twitching against his tan stomach. Never in his life had he felt...sexy. He knew he had a nice face, and people always complemented his curls. But that was wildly different to the way Flint and Thomas saw him. 

"Am I distracting you?" John said softly, tucking one arm behind his head, pulling the muscles along his torso taught. Flint's eyes narrowed, his gaze and concentration leaving Thomas' writhing form to flit over John's body laid out for him. 

"You're evil." Flint groaned, thrusts increasing pace. John sighed, lightly trailing his fingers across the lines of his chest and down to the strip of dark hair leading to his swollen cock. 

"John." Flint warned, as John circled the head of his cock with his fist. Thomas interrupted their game with a sharp cry as he spilled onto the sheets between his thighs. Flint pitched forward, panting through his own orgasm that was ripped from him by the tight clench of Thomas' hole around him. 

For a long moment the room was filled with the sound of panting breaths, the musky smell of sex and come filling the air. John's hand clutched tighter around his cock, fire burning in his belly. Flint pulled out slowly, wringing a whimper from Thomas' liquid form. John shivered with arousal at the sight of Flint's wet, softening cock. Oh, Jesus Christ. John hadn't seen him put a condom on. Which meant that Flint's come was dribbling slowly out of Thomas' spent hole, glistening along the seam of his thighs.

John choked on a moan as he spurted across his fist, aware of Flint's hooded gaze trained on him. His thighs trembled and spasmed as the aftershocks left him. He didn't know he'd let his eyes slip closed until Flint was wiping a warm, damp wash cloth across his belly and hand, rousing him from his hazy half doze. Thomas was dead to the world, snoring lightly into the his pillow. 

"Does he do that a lot?" John whispered, and Flint grinned, softly crawling into the space between them. John helped him draw the duvet from the end of the bed up over them, smiling affectionately as Flint tucked Thomas in. 

"I find it quite adorable actually." Flint said, kissing Thomas' bare shoulder before rolling onto his side to face John.  
"Was that okay?" Flint asked, tucking some stray ringlets behind John's ear. "It wasn't too much?" John smiled, kissing him softly to reassure him. 

"It was perfect. And hot." John cheeked and Flint's chest shuddered with silent laughter. 

"I'm glad." Flint said, voice warm and eyes crinkling with his closed lipped smile. With a quirked eyebrow, Flint lifted his arm, indicating to the small space between them. Face colouring and heart bursting, John wriggled into his chest, sighing in contentment as Flint's arm settled around him. John tucked his head beneath Flint's chin, cheek against his chest and fell asleep lulled by the steady drumming of Flint's heartbeat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After sweet, smutty goodness, I unfortunately must bring on the rain in the form of Woodes Rogers :/


	19. Chapter Nineteen

John floated on a high for the rest of the weekend. By Monday morning he was dreading going back to school. He didn't want to burst this little bubble of happiness that had grown around the three of them over the weekend. Walking to his locker before homeroom, John felt like he was stepping on clouds, the gentle press of Flint's mouth against his own before the school bell rang, still tingling his lips. 

He stopped dead in his tracks by his locker and all of a sudden he had fallen from the clouds and had landed flat on his back, the air smacked brutally from his lungs. His locker door was ajar and the lock lay on the linoleum at his feet. Uneasiness swirling in his gut, he gently pushed the door open. His notebooks were torn up, some to confetti and covered in Sharpie. His pencil case was tipped out and cut in half, straight down the middle. It was mindless destruction. John stood there in shock. 

All that sprang to mind was why? Yet with one glance over his shoulder, he already knew who. Rogers was leaning back against the stair railing, flanked by two sniggering seniors, and they were all looking his way. Anger rushed through his blood, making his arms tremble slightly. He didn't deserve this. Not after everything. He wasn't a stranger to bullying. Growing up in shared foster homes, he was picked on as a child for his looks and his meek personality. John thought he'd gotten past that. Clearly not. 

He didn't know quite what to do, how to react? Usually people said that bullies were seeking a reaction, and that any display of emotion would only encourage them to continue. If he merely gathered his pens and his one untouched notebook and set off to class, what did that say about him? Sure, do what you want to me, go right ahead? He didn't know. He didn't know. 

Eventually he picked up the lock from the floor, but it was useless as the latch inside had been bent and wouldn't shut properly anymore. With a sigh he tossed the lock inside and walked quickly past the stairs towards student reception, not even acknowledging Rogers' presence. 

John was trying to hide how upset he was. A carefully constructed mask of indifference to save himself the embarrassment. John loathed crying in front of people. For those closest to him, it was somewhat easier, but he generally avoided that release of emotion as often as possible. The woman at student reception gave him a sunny smile, slipping him a late slip to fill out assuming John was there because homeroom had already started. John slid it back over the counter.

"Someone broke into my locker." He said, his voice neutral and somewhat blasé, even as a tempest raged inside him. 

"Oh, how do you know you didn't just leave it unlocked or open? Was anything stolen?" She pried and John held back a snort.

"The latch is bent and my stuff has been trashed." He snapped, raking his fingers through his hair, loosening a few strands from his bun. The receptionist's eyes widened slightly and she nodded, picking up the phone. After a brief conversation to which John could barely piece together with only one side, she politely, maybe even a little hesitantly, asked him to sit and wait for the Headmistress. John complied, his left leg jiggling with pent up nerves and frustration. 

"Good morning, John." Headmistress Guthrie greeted warmly, although the thin set of her lips spoke otherwise. Without waiting for him to answer, she continued. "Well, I suppose you should show me your locker." She sighed. 

 

John waited in Miss Guthrie's office while she 'sorted out' his things. Which basically meant she brought the groundsman to trash all of his ruined books and try to fix the warped latch. 

"I'm afraid there wasn't much left." Miss Guthrie sighed, handing over a few books and a handful of pens. John took them from her wordlessly. "Unfortunately we couldn't fix the lock, so we'll just move you." She gathered her skirt and leant back against her desk. "Do you have any idea who did this?" 

John dropped his chin, hands squeezed between his knees.   
"John?"

"I didn't see anything. It was just like that." He said. It was true. He hadn't seen Rogers do anything. And he couldn't risk pointing the finger. It would only mean more trouble for him.

"Alright." Miss Guthrie conceded. "What class do you have now?" 

"English." John said and she scribbled out a late note for him. 

 

Flint's head shot up when John edged his way into the classroom, handing over his note to the teacher. Flint's brow was scrunched in curiosity and immediate worry. 

"What's happened?" Flint asked when John slid into his seat next to him.

"Nothing. My lock broke is all." John shrugged it off. Flint looked as if he wanted to inquire further about his obvious sour mood, but thankfully he merely touched his arm lightly before turning back to the front of the classroom.

 

By lunch, John's mood hadn't improved, accumulating into a rapturous cloud that hung above his head. He debated whether or not to head down to sit with the group, as he could tell he would not be good company. He didn't want to worry Flint and Thomas either. It was really nothing to bother them with. 

"Hey, cutie." Thomas said, popping up at his side. 

"Hey." John greeted, forcing a smile and by Thomas' reaction, he could see straight through it. Guiding John out of the flow of people, Thomas linked their fingers together loosely. 

"What's up?" He asked.

"I can't get anything past you, can I?" John ducked his head, shifting his stance. Thomas gave a light chuckle, resting the line of his body against the wall. 

"I'm afraid not." He said, squeazing his hand. "So? Did something happen?" 

"No. Well...yeah. But it's nothing." John dismissed.

"Something's got you twisted up. What is it?" Thomas nudged gently, stepping closer.

"Someone broke into my locker and messed up all my stuff." He mumbled. 

"Define 'messed up'." Thomas replied, a definite line growing between his brows. John held up his lone notebook.

"The only thing salvageable." John said and Thomas shook his head. 

"Unbelievable. I bet it was those grade niners, the little shits." Thomas grouched before giving a deep sigh. "I'm sorry, petal, that's shitty." Thomas pecked him on the lips, uncaring of the two girls down the opposite end of the hall. It made John smile, despite himself and press forward for another sweet kiss. Some stiffness unknotted from the space between his shoulders.

Thomas hummed softly against his mouth, eyes darting around before he affixed John with a sly smile. Taking John's hand, he tugged him into the alcove and quickly into a janitors closet. John blushed rosy, allowing Thomas to back him up against the closed door and kiss him until his mind emptied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rogers is such a shit


	20. Chapter Twenty

John was called back into Miss Guthrie's office not two days later. He didn't know why. He had a new locker and was given a few notebooks from the school book shop, so for him this whole thing was settled, dead and buried. 

Miss Guthrie was waiting for him, stuck behind her imposingly large mahogany desk and looking utterly exasperated. Flipping through sheets of paper, she barely even looked up when he entered, quickly motioning for him to sit before pouring back over the pages.

"Um...have I done something wrong?" John asked after a long period of silence. Miss Guthrie's chin snapped up and a line formed between her brows. 

"Lord, no, John. Very sorry, mind is somewhere else. I've called you in because I know who vandalised you locker." She said, sitting back in her chair. 

"Oh?" He tried to act surprised. 

"Yes, well apparently he's a bit of a stingy criminal since he was stupid enough to send around pictures of his handiwork." Miss Guthrie held up the pages she'd been flicking through, and printed on them were screenshots of text messages and photos of John's locker. "He may as well have signed his name in the corner." She sighed. 

"So, was that all?" John asked.

"Do you know Woodes Rogers in the grade above?" She asked, and John's jaw pulsed.

"Heard of him. Never spoken to him though." He ground out.

"And I suggest you try and keep it that way. He has targeted you for some strange reason, since you've never spoken. He will be punished accordingly, of course. But just...take care of yourself okay? And if Mr Rogers gives you any grief you come straight to me." Miss Guthrie said, a serious note to her voice and John nodded dutifully, gathering his things and exiting quickly. Headmistress Guthrie was a very sympathetic person, but John would never admit to anyone that she sometimes scared him a little.

 

Apparently Rogers copped a months worth of afternoon detentions for his vandalism. John derived great pleasure from seeing Rogers stuck in the Biology lab, with geriatric Mrs Wheeler, while John and the rest of the student body left with the afternoon bell. 

Since it was a Friday, Julie had allowed him to spend the night at Thomas' house, so long as he was home by the next afternoon. John was somewhat giddy, because finally someone payed for what they did to him and it felt good. He felt good. Up in Thomas' room, Thomas was taken by surprise by John's gentle but insistent hands that nudged him to sit along the edge of his bed. His lips parted to make a remark, but his words died in his throat when John dropped inelegantly to his knees before him.

Without breaking his gaze, John slipped his tie over his head, his deft fingers unbuttoning his white shirt, revealing inch after inch of his smooth tawny skin. Nerves sent tremors through his hands, but John fought through them, gently parting Thomas' legs further to settle between them. Thomas' breath hitched in his chest, one warm hand rubbing over the exposed side of John's neck, thumb nudging underneath the cut of his jaw.

John's managed to work Thomas' belt free, the clatter of the buckle against the hardwood floors the only sound accompanying their harsh breaths. John rubbed his hands up Thomas' thighs, intermittently squeezing the muscle. Thomas wrangled himself out of the suffocating cinch of his tie and made quick work of removing his shirt. John's eyes and hands traced over the marble like expanse of his chest, plucking lightly at his nipples to see his reaction. Thomas' crystalline eyes drifted closed for a moment, his tongue peaking out to swipe across his bottom lip. Straining his neck, John slid their mouths together, running his teeth gently over his slick lips. Thomas moaned, fingers working the tie from his hair, allowing his dark curls to spill down to his shoulders. Sinking his hands into his soft tresses, Thomas tilted his head to open his lips far enough to slip his burning tongue into his mouth. 

John groaned against his lips, boldly covering the front of Thomas' trousers with his open palm, feeling the heat of his hardening cock. Thomas' hands tightened in his hair, a whimper escaping him as John rubbed and squeezed his cock. 

"John." Thomas breathed, chin tilting back to allow John to lean forward and latch onto the thin skin beneath his jaw. Thomas' knees clenched around his shoulders, hands pulling him impossibly closer. A muscle started to twinge in John's neck to straining upwards to reach Thomas' mouth and reluctantly he pulled away, shifting on his knees. He would not be able to stay on his hard floor for too long, not long enough to do as he planned at least.

"Pass me a pillow." He said and Thomas quickly complied, cheeks already flushed with arousal. John could only assume he was in a similar state. Tucking the pillow under his knees, John set to work unzipping Thomas' trousers, tugging them and his boxers over the swell of his ass and down his legs. 

"Fair warning I've never done this before so..." John said and Thomas smiled, hunching over to kiss him.

"I don't think you're going to hear me complain, sweetheart." Thomas said and John chuffed, pushing Thomas flat onto his back, his feet still planted on the floor. Curious fingers ran over the blonde hairs that gathered around the base of Thomas' cock, leading up towards his navel. The hairs along Thomas' body were always so pale, John could only ever see them when the sun hit him right and he'd become haloed in a fine golden ring. Now the sun was waning, casting soft fingers of light over them through the curtains.

And as John took him into his mouth, more light burst behind Thomas' closed eyes, burning bright with pleasure. John tried to recall what Flint had done to him, what where the things that really made his blood rush and his toes curl. With one hand against the slight softness of Thomas' belly, John's other hand encircled the engorged base of his cock to guide it past his lips. Thomas tasted like salt and skin, a faint bitterness welling from the spongy head. 

Above him, Thomas was gasping, arched back quivering slightly as John set up a rhythm between his legs. Nonsense began to spill aimlessly from his bitten lips and John soaked it in with pleasure. He was straining against the zipper of his trousers, and he longed to rut against him until he came. 

"John." Thomas moaned, his long fingered hands finding their way back into his hair. With gentle nudges, Thomas urged them to separate. John panted and wiped his spit slick lips with the back on his hand. 

"Oh god, it was that bad?" John said, horror and panic tinging his voice, because why else would Thomas make him stop? 

"Christ, John, no. I just didn't want this to be over so soon." Thomas said, cupping John's face in his hands to draw him up onto the bed. Opening his legs to let Thomas settle between them, John chewed on his bottom lip.

"You can tell me if it was bad, you know?" John said, looping his arms around Thomas' neck.

"You were perfect." Thomas breathed, pressing their foreheads together. "I want to burn that image of you into me mind, I want to see it when I close my eyes." 

"That's...oddly romantic." John said, a slanted set to his brow. Thomas grinned, peppering kissing along his throat up to his lips. Tongues twisting, John realised belatedly that Thomas must be able to taste himself on John's lips, even just a little. The thought sent a thrill down his spine, his cock pulsing within its confines. 

"I didn't want to come just yet." Thomas panted out. "Because I really wanted to fuck you instead, if you'd let me?" John's cheeks heated with arousal and his over eager cock completely agreed wholeheartedly but:

"I want Flint to be here...for the first time." He said.

"I'm here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chpt obviously follows on from this but we also get the set up for something not so great :D


	21. Chapter Twenty-One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took this long for me to update!!! I've been focusing on my exams but now I'm done so yay! I made sure this chapter was a little longer than usual to hopefully make up for it.  
> *throws confetti*

"Don't let me interrupt." Flint said, hip cocked against the doorframe and his arms crossed lightly. "Although, I might add that you knew I was coming over." He smirked.

Thomas rolled his eyes through his smile, sitting back on his heels, unashamedly naked before them both. John's heart was tripping over itself, arousal and nervous anticipation coursing through him. Thomas laid possessive hands over his still clothed thighs, rubbing and squeezing the muscle, casting Flint an almost challenging gaze.  
"Who said this was my doing?" Thomas purred, cupping John through his trousers and making him squirm.

Flint's eyes burned, bright like flickering flames that licked over John's skin, causing him to bite down on his bottom lip and hitch his hips up into Thomas' hand. Flint's gaze darkened and John felt undone by it. He nearly jumped when Thomas' dexterous fingers unzipped his trousers. 

"I've got to..." John said, motioning toward himself and Thomas nodded, rolling out from the space between his legs to let John shuffle to the edge of the bed. As John toed out of his shoes and began removing his prosthetic, Flint advanced on Thomas, hooking one hand around the back of his neck to bring their mouths together. Thomas moaned outright, spine curving forward and John could see their tongues slide together before their lips met. Shucking himself out of his trousers and briefs, John sighed as his cock sprung free from its confines. 

John settled back against the headboard, his left leg bent at the knee and watched with hungry eyes as Thomas worked Flint out of his clothes. Flint latched onto the delicate skin at the join of Thomas' shoulder, sucking a vicious bruise to the surface. Thomas' back trembled as his hands fumbled with Flint's belt. Flint's eyes met John's over Thomas' shoulder and John stifled a whimper. Jesus Christ. The way Flint looked at him sometimes. 

Fingers gripping onto golden hair, Flint brought his lips to the shell of Thomas' ear, although his gaze still pinned John where he sat.   
"What were you getting up to before I came in?" He asked and John blushed, unable to keep eye contact with Flint as a smirk twitched his lips. 

Thomas hummed, pushing down Flint's trousers and underwear so he could step out of them. John's view was partially blocked by Thomas, but he could still see the provocative stretch of skin from hip to thigh.   
"Nothing that concerns you." Thomas teased, shifting around on his knees so that he faced John again, crawling back between his legs with a knowing smile on his face. 

"I think I can guess." Flint said, sliding onto the bed beside John, his thumb trailing across John's puffy red lips. John's head swam and he was already so turned on it was dizzying. His cock ached against his stomach, smearing precome across his skin. Flint bumped their noses together, eyes slipping closed as their lips moulded together. Previously, John hadn't really understood the fuss about kissing. Seeing it in movies, it always seemed so messy and unappealing. That was until he kissed Flint and Thomas. That first swipe of tongue across his lips still sent a shiver across his skin each time. If it didn't make his jaw ache, John thought he could kiss them forever. 

Flint forced his lips apart, tongue traversing his mouth and drawing pathetic little mewls from the back of his throat. Flint tilted his head forward at just the right angle to suck on John's tongue, and John moaned, loudly. Flint smiled against his lips, his unruly hand travelling across the dips and grooves of his stomach. 

"Your lips-" Flint said between kisses. "Are amazing." He sighed. "I can't even imagine what they would've looked like around Thomas' cock." John gasped, fingers gripping Flint's russet hair. "But I can try." He said and Thomas chuckled. 

"It will never compare to the real thing." Thomas said quietly, curling his long fingers around John's cock. 

"Fuck." John grunted, his hips twitching up into the heat of his palm. Flint's tongue drew distracting patterns across his neck and his fingers buried deep in his hair, nails scratching across his scalp. John squeezed his eyes shut tight, overwhelmed by the sensations. If he focused on one too intently, there was no way he would last. He didn't want this to end before it he really started. 

"Bedside drawer, darling." Thomas said, and Flint tossed an arm out to paw around the side table, throwing a tube of slick onto the bed beside them. John picked it up, brows scrunching together before he broke out in laughter.

"Cherry flavour? Who even are you?" He said, shaking his head. Flint groaned, dropping his forehead onto John's shoulder.

"It was cheap, okay? And it was an emergency." He said and John snorted, fiddling with the longer strands of Flint's hair. 

"An emergency?" He grinned and Thomas shrugged, his grip tightening around John's cock, startling a groan from between his lips. Flint's nose dragged across his cheek, dipping into his hairline, making him shiver. 

"What was the reason again, Thomas?" Flint cheeked, handing over the tube for Thomas to take. 

"Hmm." Thomas' hand left his cock to lather his fingers in pinkish lube, winking at John who was honestly struggling to breathe. "Oh yes, I remember." He said quietly, and John twitched when he pressed one slick finger against his hole. "I believe we were in your car? Yes? And I'm not quite sure how but I had my hand in your jeans." Flint chuckled against John's cheek, kissing his skin softly. Thomas pushed his fingers into him right to the knuckle and John keened, hips tilting into it. 

"Then you kissed me and said you wanted me to fuck you." John gasped as Thomas came back with two fingers, tugging deliciously at his rim and curling inside him. 

"I remember now." Flint hummed, the rough pad of his thumb circling John's nipple. "You teased me like you're teasing poor John right now." 

"Am I so cruel?" Thomas asked, twisting his fingers deep inside him, drumming the tips across his prostate. John made a truly embarrassing noise in the back of his throat, but he was already too gone to care. 

"Thomas." He groaned in frustration, earning a chuckle from Flint at his shoulder and an amused eyebrow quirk from Thomas. When Thomas proceeded to remove his fingers, John's expressed dropped into shock and irritation, surely Thomas would not tease him like this for much longer? 

"Stop looking at me like that." Thomas laughed, leaning over him to kiss his grumbling murmurs away. He pulled away from John with a contented sigh, one hand going under his knee to hitch his right leg up higher, his other hand he used to slick himself. John turned his sparkling blue eyes to Flint, unable to hide the low level nerves that tingled under his skin. Flint smiled softly, cupping the side of his face and tucking his hair behind his ear. 

"Still okay?" Flint asked and out of the corner of John's eye he saw Thomas pause, waiting for his answer.

"Yeah." He said and Flint kissed him. Resting their foreheads together, Flint pressed kisses across his cheeks and over his bitten lips to distract him from the first push of Thomas' cock. 

"Breathe." Flint murmured, and John let out a shaky sigh. Thomas' hands ran soothingly over his thighs and stomach and a deep groan rumbled from his chest when finally the cut of his hips met the tops of John's thighs. John's head swam with the unfamiliar sensation. He felt so...full. Stretched obscenely wide around Thomas. 

Thomas' hand worked him back to full hardness again, after his erection had flagged at the initial discomfort.   
"You can move." John gasped, nails leaving crescent moons along Thomas' pale shoulders as he pulled out and pushed back in in one smooth glide. Thomas' cock pressed and dragged over all the right places inside of him, turning his brain to mush and sending shocks of pleasure across his skin. Growing more confident, Thomas hooked his hands around John's thighs and snapped his hips forward, cock punching into that bundle of nerves. John moaned as his cock gave a burst of precome.

He pushed and pulled at Thomas' shoulders, egging him on to go faster, that he wasn't so delicate. Flint was moaning softly by his ear, a hand around his flushed red cock as he drank in the scene before him. John watched the wet head glide through his fist and he bit down his lip to keep his thoughts from pouring out of him. Because he wanted Flint inside him. He wasn't as big as Thomas, but his cock was thicker and John felt lightheaded at the though of Flint taking him. 

Above him, Thomas was panting harshly, droplets of sweat beading across his forehead and chest. His rhythm eventually began to falter, hips jerking forward and helpless moans filtering through. 

"Petal, I'm afraid you worked me up too much before." He laughed, ending on a keen. "I'm not going to last much longer." After about a dozen strokes, Thomas' hips stilled and the most beautiful sounds dropped from his mouth. John squeezed his walls around him and Thomas dropped forward in shock, trembling all over. 

They shared loose, wet kisses as Thomas came down from his high. John winced when he pulled out, not in pain per say, mostly at the strange sensation. With a sigh, Thomas fell in a heap beside him.   
"I'm severely disappointed in myself." He said with good humour. "I'll make it up to you sometime." He cheeked. "In the meantime however, I think maybe James could step in?" 

John caught Flint's eye, his gaze heady and dark with lust. Swiping his tongue over his lips, John smiled, taking Flint's face in his hands and kissing him. Flint moaned against his mouth, one hand skating over his spine to plunge two fingers into his dripping hole. John cried out and bit down hard on Flint's bottom lip. 

"Please." He gasped and Flint looked overcome with want, eyes drooping to half mast. Using his strength, Flint easily flipped John onto his side before tucking himself against his back. John felt a flush simmer across his body as Flint nudged his legs open to sink into him. 

"Gorgeous." Thomas said quietly, eyes running down John's front and over his face. Flint was panting harshly against the nape of his neck as he worked up a steady rhythm, using his grip on John's hips to pull him back towards him as he thrusted forward. John ached for release, but he was not willing to let this go just yet. Flint felt too good pressed up against him, inside him. He never wanted this feeling to end. 

"John." Flint moaned his name into his ear, snaking a hand around to fist brutally at his cock. John near screamed, eyes screwed shut as Flint forced his orgasm from him. John could've sworn he lost a few second there, because suddenly he was lying flat on his stomach, while Flint used his come slick hand to bring himself off. Thomas' hand was carding through his hair and John smiled at him without opening his eyes. He felt Flint drop sweet kisses across the expanse of his shoulders before he drifted off, Thomas' fingers soothing him to sleep. 

 

The next morning John was roused awake by the sunlight beaming through the open curtains. Beside him, Flint and Thomas were wrapped in an embrace of tangled limbs and it made John smile. Leaning over the edge of the bed he searched through his pants for his phone to check the time, only to see he'd missed a text from Muldoon. 

'Hey, so I'm being forced by a friend to go to this party tomorrow and none of the guys are coming. Please for the love of god save me. Come? I'll buy you beer?' John rolled his eyes. 

'Make it cider and you've got a deal' he messaged back and dropped his phone onto the beside table before curling against Flint's back to try and sleep for a few more hours at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's just say this party is a bad idea, okay?


	22. Chapter Twenty-Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh it's been so long I'm so sorry!

Blood trickled from his face to paint his trembling hands red. Delicately he pinched the bridge of his nose, wincing at the pain but relieved that he couldn't feel a break in the bone. He'd already broken it once in his life, due to the impact of his face hitting the car's dashboard. Once was enough. 

He ached all over, pain throbbing in his chest, his knuckles and in his chest. Breathing was actually quite difficult, once he really focused on it. Holding his jacket to the leaking faucet that was his nose, he hobbled his way through the dim lit streets, passing by houses and wondering if anyone could see him? And if they did, what were the chances anyone would give a shit? 

Slim, he would say. So instead he limped down the uneven footpath until he turned into a street he knew. 

 

\-------------------

9:43 pm 

Muldoon clapped him on the back when he finally made it to the party, relief clear on his face. 

"Man, I have been sitting by myself for a good twenty minutes looking like the biggest loner." He laughed, handing John his promised cider with a smirk. 

"So, the usual?" John said on a laugh. 

"Fuck you, Silver." Muldoon rolled his eyes. 

 

11:28 pm 

John was deliciously buzzed, lounging back on a couch in a crowded living room. Across the room Muldoon was working his charms on a senior girl with short auburn hair and glasses that made her eyes wide and doll-like. 

He felt as if the cushion beneath him was bobbing over soft waves, making his head feel light. He wished Flint and Thomas were here with him. But he couldn't fault them for wanting to spend a night in. Maybe he should've joined them. Usually their 'nights in' entailed movies, chocolate and orgasms, it was surely better than warding off girls' attempts at flirting and suffocating on cigarette smoke. 

A girl in his form class dropped onto the couch next to him with a put upon sigh. Her hair was kind of a mess, as if someone had been running their fingers through it haphazardly. By the flush of her cheeks, John thought that was exactly what had happened. 

"Have I got mascara under my eye?" She turned to him suddenly, swaying forward slightly. 

"Uh, no, you're good." He said. 

"Can I ask you a question?" She continued in a stage whisper, holding herself upright with a hand on his knee. John quirked his eyebrows at her.

"Uh huh." 

"Can you tell I just gave someone a blowjob in the bathroom?" She said and then flew into a fit of giggles, dropping her head back onto the back rest. John couldn't hold back his own laughter at the absurdity and her overreaction. 

"Kind of." He grinned and she groaned, patting down the stray whisps of her hair. 

"Yikes." She huffed, for a moment she just looked at him, dark eyes flitting across his face before she burst out laughing again. "Oh my god! I didn't even - I forgot you! John, right?"

"Ruby?" He cautioned and she nodded.

"Yeah, of course! You've got those two hotties." She waggled her eyebrows and John felt himself blush. 

"Uh, yeah." 

"You lucky pig. The world is so unfair. You've got two boyfriends and I've got zero." She sighed. "So how's that going?" 

"Good, great." John said. 

"Ugh, that so hot!" She said, a little too loud, turning a few heads. 

"I know." He smirked, taking a swig, a victory sip and Ruby squealed. 

"Hey, John." Muldoon appeared over his shoulder, the girl he'd been talking to standing close behind him. "So uh me and Danielle were going to go. You alright here?" His eyes cut Ruby who was using her phone to fix her smudged eyeshadow. 

"Yeah, I think I'll go too. Thomas' house is a few blocks over so." He said and Muldoon grinned, clapping him on the shoulder before he left with Danielle at his side. After finding one of Ruby's friends to keep her company and watch over her, John dumped his half empty can into the bin before heading out the door. 

Out on the front porch a group of seniors were hanging around smoking and being obnoxiously loud. John cursed to God when he caught sight of Rogers among the crowd and Rogers caught sight of him. 

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." John murmured to himself, passing the group. 

"Who the fuck invited you, Silver?" Rogers called out and John shook his head, continuing to walk. "We didn't want any fags at our party." 

"Well unless you've sprouted tits and go by the name Sarah, I don't think this is your party?" John bristled, turning on his heel to face the house. He was completely taken aback by the fist that connected brutally with his cheek, knocking him back. 

"What the fuck!" John shouted, pushing Roger's chest. Up close Rogers' breath smelt like stale beer and John burned with anger. They grappled for a while, before Rogers kicked his feet out from under him, sending him tumbling onto his back, knocking the breath from his lungs. 

Rogers' knee pushed against his ribcage as he held him down. Flat on his back and mind whirling, John couldn't find any purchase to get Rogers off of him. He punched Rogers right in the nose, blood spurting from his face and Rogers reeled back and he yelled. Using his knees, John knocked Rogers off on his chest, sucking in gulps of air. 

He barely had a minute to catch his breath before Rogers lunged at him again, hands at his throat, fingertips pressing bruises into his skin and partially cutting off his breathing. Lights blinked across his vision and for one terrifying moment, John thought he might actually die. 

Noise filled his ears and blearily he could see hands pulling Rogers off of him. Rogers' friend quickly pulled Rogers to his feet and dragged him out into the street, yelling over each other in increasingly panicked voices. 

Shakily, John rolled onto his front, hissing at the pain radiating across his chest. Getting his knees under him, John stood up, stomach roiling as the ground tilted beneath him. A small group had gathered, each staring at him with wide shocked eyes. Before anyone could try and step towards him, John staggered away, slipping away into the shadows of the street. 

\-------------------------------

He almost cried with relief when he finally stumbled up to Thomas' front door. He tried the door bell and then knocked on the door, crying out at the shocks of pain that contact sent through his scuffed knuckles. He left behind a small smudge of blood against the light coloured door and he cringed at the sight. 

John's legs were faltering beneath him. Luckily, before could crumble at the doorstep, lights blinked on inside and the front door swung open before him. 

It was Thomas' mother, rumpled from sleep and looking entirely unimpressed at being woken up so late. Yet when she saw the state he was in, her expression fell.

"Oh my God!" She yelled, and John winced. With gentle hands she guided him inside, quickly shutting the door behind him. "Thomas! Thomas!" 

Thomas' footsteps thundered down the stairs, Flint right behind him. Thomas' mother was sitting him down on the couch in the front room when Thomas and Flint ran in. In any other circumstances, John would've smiled at their disheveled hair and wrinkled clothes, but their twin expressions of horror when they saw him tamped that reaction down, instead drawing out tears. 

Thomas reached him first, hands holding onto his shoulders to guide him back against the cushions. John let out a pained murmur, wincing slightly. 

"Oh my god. John, what the hell happened? Who did this?" Thomas asked, eyes wide and calculating. 

"Rogers." John gasped out, wiping the blood from his lips. Flint looked murderous and John saw his fist clench at his sides. 

"I'm going to kill him." He seethed.

"James, don't." Thomas warned.

"He can't get away with this! Fucking look at him!" Flint's tone was thunderous but beneath that his eyes were shining. 

"James." John said quietly and Flint immediately deflated, because John had never called him that before.  
"He's not going to get away with it. But for right now, please, come sit down." Flint sat in the vacant seat beside him, carefully taking his hand in his. John gave him a watery smile and Flint's face was so sorrowful, his hand coming up to brush over his swelling lip. Thomas was kneeling in front of him, holding onto his other hand, rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand. 

Thomas' mother fluttered back into the room, her phone in her hand. 

"Do you think you need an ambulance?" She asked and John shook his head. 

"I'm calling Julie to come get you." She said, walking back into the kitchen.


	23. Chapter Twenty-Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of the aftermath

Julie flew through the front door as if fire was lighting her heels. She had obviously left the house in a rush, considering she was still wearing her pyjama shirt under her hastily thrown on coat. Flint stepped up from his spot next to John to allow Julie to sit and take John's face into her hands. 

"Oh, John." She said, sadly and John swallowed back the tightness in his throat. "Who did this?" John dropped his gaze.

"Woodes Rogers, he's a senior at our school." Thomas piped up for him. Julie gently tipped his chin up to look at his swelling nose and eye, a frown setting deep lines around her mouth and between her brows. John was just so tired, he just wanted to crawl into his bed, pull the covers over his head and sleep for a week. 

"Alright, well, we've got to get to the emergency room. I'll deal with all of that later." Julie hummed, shouldering her bag. Thomas helped John to his feet, eyes filled with concern as John winced and touched his chest, where Rogers' knee had pinned him down. 

Flint's hand traced along the length of his arm, touching him as if he was glass. Thomas still held his other hand, each of them reluctant to let go. 

Julie watched them quietly for a moment with a sad smile.   
"Thanks for taking care of him, boys." She said. "You can come visit tomorrow." Thomas and Flint let go, and John felt the distance immediately. Julie guided him out and into the car, and John sat in the backseat, mostly to keep the silent tears that spilled a secret as they drove to the hospital. 

 

John hated hospitals. He could smell the disinfectant spray they used to wipe up his blood from the linoleum that last time he'd been there. It made his stomach churn. The hospital reminded him of lying in bed, in too much pain to even cry, and having to get through each day and long night without anyone by his side.

"We really don't need to." John murmured as they stepped through the automatic doors. His voice sounded raspy to his own ears. It hurt to talk. Above them in glaring red was 'Emergency', he remembered looking up at it from the gurney during his brief time of consciousness from when they pulled him out of the back of the ambulance.   
"I mean, I don't feel sick or anything." Lie. He was seconds away from anxiously spilling his guts onto the floor. "I-I don't want to waste anyone's time with just some bruises, you know. I mean I don't have a concussion or anything." He rambled and Julie cast him a furrowed look before sitting him down in the rows of plastic chairs to go fill out his paperwork.

 

John squirmed in his seat, anxiously tapping his foot. His head hurt, pounded even. Closing his eyes he tried to force himself to relax. It was fine. He was fine. It wasn't like before. Julie's here, she loves you, she won't leave you here. When he closed his eyes, he could here the faint beeping of machines, the murmurs of the on-call nurses. The sounds filled his head and brought him back to when he first regained consciousness after his emergency surgery. The first thing he heard was the squeak of sneakers against freshly cleaned floors, followed by the beeping of his heart monitor. He was so scared, when he'd first opened his eyes. 

John dropped forward so that his head was almost between his knees, ignoring the ache in his chest. He just needed to breathe. But he couldn't. He didn't want to open his eyes. He didn't want to open them and suddenly be back there, in that bed, in his prison cell of a room, alone.

"Are you alright?" A woman's voice spoke above him. John opened his eyes, got a glance at the woman's concerned expression before he pitched forward and threw up all over the floor. It burned in his aching throat, and left him gasping for air. 

"Jesus, honey." Julie ran over to him, her warm hand caressing the back of his neck. Obviously alarmed, the nurse Julie had been speaking to came over and told them to follow her down the hall so that John could be examined. John saw that there were at least a dozen other people waiting before him, but by their wide eyed expression, he didn't think they minded if he skipped the line.

Julie and the nurse were speaking while they walked John into a room and sat him on the cushioned table.   
"I heard vomiting can be a sign of a serious concussion?" Julie wiped his mouth with a tissue from her purse. 

"It can be. That why we brought you back so soon. We need to be sure." The nurse answered, slipping on sterile gloves. 

John shook his head, grimacing as it jostled his brain around his skull.   
"I didn't throw up from a concussion." He said quietly and they both stared at him. "I just...I just got really anxious and started to panic. I don't like hospital." He added lamely, eyes focused on the floor between his dangling feet. Julie sighed, rubbing circles across his back.

"Oh, sweetheart." She said, understandingly. 

"We'll just make sure, okay? In the meantime, while we wait for the doctor, I'll get you cleaned up." 

 

"Still with me?" The nurse asked, wiping the crusted blood from his nose. He'd been silent throughout the whole process, except for the occasional wince. 

"Yeah." He said quietly and she nodded. All of a sudden her gloved hands were in his hair, fingers prodding and searching. It was uncomfortable, a little intrusive, and he yelped when her finger pushed down on a tender spot at the back of his head. 

"Uh huh." She said, turning his head and parting his hair. "You've got a gash, very small. Do you remember that happening?" 

"I was pushed to the ground. I think I hit my head on the driveway." He said. 

"That'll do it. This is an easy fix. For something this small and such a clean split, we can just glue it back together." His eyes widened. Glue? Glue his head back together? 

"You've got some blood in your hair. Once this is glued unfortunately you won't be able to wash your hair for a little while." Great. "I'll go get Dr Trent, and we'll get that fixed up." And she left without another word. 

Julie was sitting across from him, twisting her rings around her fingers as she watched him like a hawk. She must have been worried he was going to just pass out on her, or throw up again. 

"I know I've looked better." He said to break the silence and he felt a little better when it brought a small smile to her face. 

"Yes, you have." She agreed and once again silence descended. She looked as if she was about to say something, so John just waited.   
"Why didn't you tell me you were being bullied?" She asked and John cringed. 

"Christ, I'm not being cornered in the playground while someone demands my lunch money. He's just an asshole." He sighed, yet she didn't seem convinced. 

"When I look at you, I'm seeing the same thirteen year old boy that came to us. It took you so long to get where you are, and we're so proud of you. I don't want to see you revert back." Her bottom lip trembled and John battled against the lump in his throat.

"I'm not saying this to upset you, or - or make you feel guilty. I just need to be sure...that you're not letting anything or anyone beat you down." Julie wiped away the moisture in her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Never." He said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that my updates are so slow :(:(:(:(:(


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

John went home that night, or well, that morning, with a swollen black eye, a bruised nose, bruised breastbone and a glued together scalp, but thankfully no concussion. He was lucky, they said, hitting the back of his head against a paved driveway could have easily resulted in life threatening brain trauma, if he'd struck the ground hard enough. John didn't feel lucky though, he felt like one big walking bruise. 

The doctor prescribed him some painkillers, but considering the alcohol still in his system, he wasn't allowed to take them until at least midday. Meaning he had to lay in his bed and try sleep through the throbbing pain in his nose and at the back of his head. He laid on his side, it was the only position that didn't hurt, and tried to empty his mind. John's body was exhausted, his legs deadweight and his arms like noodles. But his mind wouldn't let him go. It latched on to every twinge in his chest, and throb of his bruised flesh. 

John watched the sun rise through the slats of his blinds as frustrated tears poured down his cheeks. Just let him sleep. 

 

It was around eight that there was a tentative knock at his door.   
"Hmm?" Was all he really had the energy to say. He had still yet to fall asleep. 

Raf poked his head through and then nudged the door open with his hands full of a tray holding a glass of water and orange juice and two slices of buttered toast. 

"I didn't think you could really stomach much else." He sighed, setting the tray down on John's bedside table. 

"Just get home?" John murmured, and Raf nodded, settling at the edge of his bed.

"I tell you, getting off a plane and seeing twenty four missed calls from your wife puts you in quite the panic." Raf smiled, shaking his head lightly. 

"Sorry." John said quietly, knowing it was his fault Julie had been so worried. 

"No need, kid." Raf said, sincerely. "I won't keep you. Try to get some sleep, hmm? I know I definitely need it." As it on cue, Raf yawned. 

"Can you shut the blinds?" John asked. 

"Sure, kid." It didn't do much to darken the room, but it did cut out the slices of light. "I hope your boyfriends still like you even when you look like an overripe blueberry." John actually cracked a small smile at that, but it quickly died as his split lip protested. 

"Drink some water." Were Raf's parting words. And again John was alone with his overworked brain. 

 

He managed you catch at least forty minutes of sleep after that, yet it didn't do much to make him feel any better. Around mid morning voices stirred out in the hallway, causing John to sit up. There was a knock at the door. 

"Yeah?" John called out. 

"Can we come in?" He recognised Thomas' voice and relief flooded through him, immediately brightening his mood.

"Yeah." John was already smiling. Thomas was grinning broadly as he stepped inside, tugging Flint in behind him. 

"Fuck me, you look tired." Thomas said and John chuffed, raking a hand through his curls only to wince as it tugged on the wound. Flint's eyes narrowed.

"What's wrong?" He asked, sitting down on the bed beside him. Subconsciously, John drifted into the heat of his body, leaning his side against Flint's chest. Thomas quickly tucked himself to John's other side, watching him intently. 

"I split the back of my head." John said. "Small, tiny wound." He added in when Flint's eyes widened. "They had to glue it back together. Wanna see?" John asked, already parting his hair to show them. 

Flint's fingers gently tucked his loose curls behind his ear and he nudged John's chin up to look at him. John swallowed, lips parting softly as Flint's thumb brushed against them, edging around the cut. His bottle green gaze searched his face, focusing on the deep bruises set under his uninjured eye. 

"Have you slept at all?" He asked and John deflated, shaking his head. 

"Christ, John." Thomas sighed, hooking his chin over John's shoulder. 

"It's not like I haven't been trying." John murmured miserably, taking Flint's large warm hand in his, his chest feeling a little lighter when a small smile quirked Flint's lips. 

His head throbbed, and John closed his eyes on a wince, resting his temple against Flint's chest. Immediately John felt Flint's arm snake around his shoulders, pulling him closer and John melted in his embrace, a soft sigh leaving his parted lips as warmth encircled him. Thomas was a steady presence along the line of his back. He traced aimless shapes over John's shoulders, and even through his t-shirt, goosebumps sprouted down his arms. It was between soft breaths that John drifted off, the tip of his nose squished against Flint's collarbones and his arm curled over his waist.

 

When John awoke again his room was bathed in midday sun filtering through the cracks and crevices of the window blinds. His legs were tangled with Flint's beneath the covers, even as John had turned his back to him in his sleep. The warmth from Flint's forehead and cheek radiated through the thin material of John's t-shirt between his shoulder blades. John's heart tripped over itself in his chest at the easy affection and closeness that only months ago was still so otherworldly to John. 

"What are you smiling at?" Thomas whispered, amusement tinting his voice. John's eyes fluttered open to see pools of blue staring back at him. John's smile grew, a blush colouring his cheeks. 

"Nothing." John whispered back. 

"Mhmm." Thomas sounded disbelieving. "Julie came in while you were asleep. She and Raf are going to report Rogers to the police." John dropped his gaze, chewing on his bottom lip. 

"It was just a fight. I've been in fights before." John mumbled, and Thomas' brows furrowed. Taking John's hand in his, he began to caress the back of his hand with his thumb. 

"This wasn't 'just' a fight and you and I both know that." Thomas said softly and John swallowed. With an almost hesitant touch, Thomas' fingers traced across the bruises that had bloomed a stormy blue-grey along his throat where Rogers' fingertips had sunk into his flesh. "You could have died." Thomas said, so quiet, and so heartbroken, John felt hot tears well up in his eyes. 

"I've been closer to death than that." John said, because it was true. He gave a shuddering sigh. "Going to the hospital again..." 

Thomas' hand trailed up to cup his cheek.   
"Would you tell me, tell us? About what happened?" John's heart thundered in his rib cage. He had never told anyone the detailed story, ever. Julie and Raf saw the breakdown of his accident in his file when they'd taken him in, and that was the extent of their knowledge. They'd never asked for more than that. It should make John want to run far away in the other direction, but the thought of telling Thomas and Flint felt...right? Maybe that wasn't the word to describe how he felt about it. But for the first time, it didn't scare him.

"Okay." John said in a small voice and Thomas kissed his forehead, practically the only spot on his face without bruises of some sort, and it made his heart clench.   
"We'll wait for Flint to wake up." 

"I'm up." Flint murmured behind him, hand sliding over his hip. John startled, then huffed a laugh, turning onto his back. 

"Creeper." John smirked, and Flint honest to god pouted at him. Flint shifted so that his head was cradled in the join of John's arm, his chin tilted up and his eyes sparkling green. 

"We're listening." Thomas said, palm settling over John's belly, warm and heavy. John nodded, chewing on the corner of one nail as he pondered over how exactly to begin. 

"How old were you?" Thomas asked, helping him along. John flashed him a small smile of thanks. 

"Uh, thirteen. I was in the car with a friend of mine, Matthew, he was sixteen. We'd met in a halfway house. We were coming into an intersection, this truck ran a red light, Matthew wasn't looking and...the whole front of the car was crushed. I was pinned down by the dashboard and Matthew..." John sighed. "Hit the steering wheel and died on impact." 

"Jesus." Flint breathed out and John huffed. 

"I know. I had to be cut out of the car and had emergency surgery. When I woke up...my leg-it was just gone." It felt somewhat clinical, the way he spoke about it. But it was the only way he could bare to speak it. If he told it as a story, it almost didn't feel like it was his. Almost. 

"I was in the hospital for weeks. Alone. My foster parents didn't give a shit. I didn't want them there anyway, they were both abusive assholes." Thomas' fingers curled over his belly, a line between his brows as he listened. "I had to learn how to walk again, basically. The policewoman who talked to me while I was still stuck in the car, she visited me once, early on." 

John remembered the way her eyes widened when she saw him, laying prone in his hospital bed, hair greasy, his skin covered in scratches and bruises and one half of his leg missing. Constable Jameson was a rare case in his eyes. In his experience officers who dealt with troubled kids, street kids, didn't care about their safety, and were instead more occupied on working out their frustrations by seeking them out to arrest them without cause. As was their prerogative. Jameson on the other hand treated him and his 'friends' fairly. Not to say she was a doormat, no, she was stern with them when need be. There was no chance of wriggling your way out of trouble with her. 

But John knew she cared. At least about him. Surely there was no reasonable number for how many times she had marched John up to his front door with his head hung low between his shoulders, either drunk, high or sporting spray paint covered fingers. 

Yet when the door would slam open and John's foster father would drunkenly sway forward, Jameson and John would share a glance, and small conversation that never was truly discussed. She understood him, understood why he did the things he did. She understood that he would do anything to stay away from his house, and his foster parents.

"We'd met countless times before the accident. She knew my name, I knew hers. She was easy to talk to." John shrugged, mindlessly fiddling with Thomas fingers splayed across his stomach. He thought about Jameson from time to time, when a squad car would pass him on the street, or when he'd see a young group of teens and preteens lazing around in parks or loitering behind the service station. He wondered what she'd think of him, if she could see him now, if she even remembered him.


	25. Chapter Twenty-Five

Flint and Thomas didn't leave John side for the rest of the weekend. Thomas flitted around him like an anxious hummingbird, asking him how he felt, if he wanted anything. John really couldn't find it in himself to be annoyed by it, instead it settled something warm in his chest and made him really wish his lip wasn't busted so that he could kiss the daylights out of him. 

Flint, on the other hand, was a calming, quiet presence by his side. He didn't hover above him, instead he watched John carefully, with consideration. If he looked to be struggling in any way, he would silently take over, rolling his eyes at the embarrassment that accompanied John when people took care of him. 

Asking for help was like nails on a chalkboard to John. It went against such a significant part of him that still lived as a passed around foster kid.

But when he kept prodding and scratching the closed wound at the base of his skull as he tried to wash his hair, he came to the frustrating conclusion that he couldn't do this by himself. So with heavy, petulant steps, John walked into his bedroom on one crutch, where Flint and Thomas were sprawled, talking quietly to each other. They both looked up when he entered with freakishly similar questioning expressions. Frustrated tears pooled in his eyes, and he tried to swallow them back. He was being ridiculous. 

"John?" Flint asked, quietly, sitting up with his legs dangling over the side of the bed. John shook himself, giving a self deprecating laugh to show that he was okay. 

"I-uh...I can't wash my hair. I can't see the-" He pointed at the back of his head in leu of continuing. Flint and Thomas' gazes softened. 

"I can do it over the sink? James, get a chair." Thomas said, his hands already on John's damp shoulders, guiding him back into the bathroom. 

 

John thought that maybe he should have just let it be and not asked for Thomas' help. With head tilted back, Thomas was glued to his side, leaning over him to gently work his fingers through his soapy hair. This position put John's fact right near his chest, between his biceps which worked around him. Every once in a while the collar of his t-shirt would sag and John could see right down to his nipples, and his face would flame. Not to mention he smelt amazing, like deodorant and cologne mixed with a purely Thomas smell. John only had himself for blame for the way that smell made his cock twitch under his towel. 

"All done!" Thomas announced cheerily, twisting John's hair into a coil to squeeze out the excess water. John thanked god when Thomas stepped back. But there was no way of hiding his flushed cheeks or the purposeful placement of his arms and hand between his legs. Thomas' responding grin was a wicked thing. 

"Oh, petal." He purred, kicking the bathroom door shut behind him and dropping straight to his knees. John swallowed audibly, face heating even further as Thomas gently moved his hands out of the way. John's heart beat triple time when Thomas unwrapped his towel from around his waist, exposing him completely. 

"I really wish I could kiss you." Thomas said quietly, eyes deceptively blue. John leant forward, tilting Thomas chin up with a hand cupped around his jaw. John hovered there for a moment, watching Thomas watch him, before placing the softest kiss on his mouth. Pulling back, Thomas blinked his ocean eyes open and smiled. 

"Well aren't you something, John Silver." He said and John chuckled, cutting off with a sigh as Thomas pressed his plush lips to the thin skin along his neck. Thomas placed devastating, wet kisses along his skin, down his chest to the cut of his hips where he sucked on the skin until it bloomed red. John was achingly hard, twitching against his stomach. Thomas' mouth was so close to where he needed it to be.

"Please." John breathed and Thomas bit down on the inside of his thigh, making him squeak. 

"You're so beautiful, John." Thomas rasped, kissing the leaking head of his cock. John gasped, hips jolting forward and Thomas smirked, sucking him halfway down in one swift movement. John saw blue and red stars behind his eyes. Thomas' mouth was hot and wet around him, drawing pathetic little moans and whimpers from his mouth that he couldn't hold back. John's hand found its way to the back of Thomas' head, his fingers grasping as his short blonde locks as his brain turned to liquid and dribbled out of his ears. 

"Thomas." John moaned. His whole body was throbbing with need. He was going to come any second, he could feel it coiling hotly low in his belly. 

"Why's the door-" Flint said, opening the door, only to stop dead in his tracks at the scene before him. Thomas didn't even flinch, continuing his rhythm as if nothing was the matter. John, on the other hand, made eye contact with Flint for one second before he came down Thomas' throat with a punched out groan. 

Thomas swallowed, releasing his spent cock with a gasp for air, leaning back on his heels. John was panting, head lolled back against the sink. Flint, on the other hand, was still standing in the same spot, eyes wide and dark.   
"Jesus Christ." He said and Thomas chuckled. 

"We got a teeny bit sidetracked." He said and Flint grinned, walking over to John, who looked up at him with glazed eyes. 

"I can see that." He said, amused, and John grinned lazily at him.

"You should wash my hair all the time." John cheeked.

"Gladly." Thomas purred, wiping a spot of come from the corner of his mouth with his thumb before popping it into his mouth. Both John and Flint groaned at the same time, much to Thomas' amusement. 

Flint helped Thomas up to his feet, before sweeping him into a kiss that made John envious. Stupid split lip. John watched, biting down on his bottom lip, as Flint plunged his tongue into Thomas' mouth, seeking out the lingering taste of John.

"Fuck." Flint growled, hands clenching at Thomas' waist. Thomas hummed, watching John over Flint's shoulder. John was trying not to combust with lust. That look...Christ. His eyes still firmly planted on John, Thomas brought his kiss bruised lips up to Flint's ear, to whisper something in his ear that John couldn't hear. But by the shiver that ran down Flint's spine, he could only guess. Flint turned away from Thomas to help John off the chair and walked him back into his room to deposit him on the side of the bed. 

Thomas sidled up behind Flint, tugging on the red hair at the back of his skull to bare his neck to the onslaught of his lips and teeth. Flint crumbled forward, pulling Thomas down onto the bed with him. Tangled from head to toe, they kissed like they needed it to breathe. Flint tugged Thomas' shirt over his head, baring the length of his spine and his creamy pale skin. 

John watched with heavy breaths as Flint spun them so that Thomas lay beneath him. They stared at each other for a long moment, before Flint sat back onto his haunches. Gripping onto Thomas' hips, Flint flipped Thomas onto his stomach in a swift movement that took John's breath away. 

Thomas' spine curved as a sigh escaped his lips. Flint kissed down the line of his spine, hands working underneath him to undo the fly of his jeans and tug them down his legs, taking his boxers with them. Flint moaned against Thomas' tailbone, his large hands cupping both of his cheeks and pulling them apart. Thomas groaned, eyes catching John's as Flint licked a stripe across his hole. Thomas gasped, head dropping forward. 

John couldn't hold back his sighs and small moans as Flint ate Thomas out right before his eyes. His skin thrummed with heat and need, but it was still to soon for him to get hard again. 

"Fuck." Thomas groaned. "James, fuck me." Flint's eyes dropped closed for a moment as he collected himself. 

Good lord, John was going to die. 

 

John was fairly sure he lost a few moments of consciousness when Thomas seated himself on Flint's dick. He couldn't be sure, but the blood rushing around his body, valiantly trying to fill his cock, must have had something to do with it. 

Thomas moaned deep in his throat as he began to circle his hips down. John wished he could do that. Wished he had two working legs so that he could bounce in Flint's lap, Thomas' lap. Truthfully, he had never actually tried. Maybe he could keep his balance, at least for a little while. 

"John." Thomas moaned, his lust dark eyes taking up and down his naked form. John couldn't help but preen a little under his attention, sitting up on one knee to kiss him softly again. It was just a press of lips, but Thomas sighed. Feeling emboldened, John curled his fingers around Thomas' cock, stroking him to his thrusts. 

"Shit, John." Thomas gasped. John nosed along his jaw, leaning close to whisper in his ear. 

"I wish I could have you in my mouth." He rasped and Thomas choked on a moan, spitting hot liquid over John's fist and Flint's stomach. 

 

Afterwards they lay in a sprawled heap of warm limbs and soft skin. John was against Flint' chest, practically purring as Flint fingers ran methodically through his hair, carefully edging around his closed wound. Thomas was dozing behind Flint, making small little rasping snores that made both John and Flint smile at each other. 

"How long until this heals?" Flint whispered, tracing his finger over the scabbed split along John's top lip.

"Too long." John said, and Flint's eyes crinkled with his smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to make up for my long absence with a little bit of smut ;)


	26. Chapter Twenty-Six

John didn't go to school that Monday and no one fought him on it. The bruises were still too fresh, still too dark against the skin of his throat. He would take one step through the front door and everyone's eyes would be on him, tracing the bruises along his skin, the swelling around his eye and the tear in his lip. Whispers would rise and rumours would spread like wildfire. Just the thought of it made John's heart beat anxiously in his chest. He couldn't deal with that right now. It was bad enough that Julie had dragged him down to the police station to give his official statement against Rogers. 

 

Even after a few years, cops still made John nervous. Logically he knew these weren't the cops he dealt with as a kid, the ones who handled him roughly and teased him like schoolyard bullies when they picked him up off the street. He knew this. But his resentment and his anxiety towards them still stewed beneath the surface. John stayed quiet, letting Julie do most of the talking until he was ushered into a room by an officer to record his statement. It was a taxing experience to say the least. 

John was exhausted, he was sick of talking, he was sick of listening as well. He just wanted to curl back up in bed. After signing a few documents and letting them take a few official photos of his injuries, John was finished. He didn't say a word the whole way home. He could see Julie casting him glances out of the corner of her eye, as if trying to figure out if she should be worried about his silence. She shouldn't, he was just tired and his chest still ached. John wasn't allowed to take anymore painkillers after two days because his pain wasn't severe enough. Now he would have to suffer through weak paracetamols. Good luck sleeping. 

 

Back at home, John went straight up to his room, mumbling something incoherent to Julie as he passed. His limbs felt heavy, but his head was spinning on its axis. Taking off his prosthetic and changing into sweatpants and a hoodie, John sat up on the large windowsill that overlooked the backyard. In the silence of his room his mind whirred. 

Once before he'd been taken back to the police station, not for something he'd done, but for something that was done to him. In the early morning, a fight had erupted in his foster home, between his foster father and himself. It was nothing new. But this particular time, they came to blows. The neighbours called the cops when John's foster mother started screaming for her husband to stop. They'd assumed it was a case of domestic violence, not all uncommon around that neighbourhood. But when Constable Jameson and her partner knocked on their front door, his foster mother was red faced and crying, but there wasn't a scratch on her. But there was John, sitting on the floor of the kitchen, wiping blood from under his nose with a tea-towel.

An argument ensued that John didn't remember, but he remembered that it died off when Jameson helped him up off the floor and walked him down to the squad car. She talked to him all the way to the station, asking questions that he didn't want to answer.

At the station, Jameson helped him wash the blood off his face and took him into a quiet room to settle himself. They took photos of his face, and asked him if he was hit anywhere else, he shook his head. Then a woman from the child protective services came and sat with him. He knew what she was going to ask him. Did his foster father hit him, how often did he do it? Did he abuse him verbally as well as physically? 

He knew all the answers, but he didn't say them. If he spoke the truth they would send him straight into the waiting arms of a halfway house. His last visit there had lasted four months. During which time he'd had some kids pen knife to his throat, all his belongings stolen from his bunk and his hair cut off while he slept. There was no way he would let himself go back there. So he lied. 

He'd gotten into a fight down at the park with another kid. He'd sustained a bloody nose and ran home. His foster parents' fight was unrelated, he told them. He asked when they'd let him go.

 

He remembered the stunned expressions on their faces. Their reluctance to believe him. But he was a good liar, and there was nothing they could do. John chose to stay with his old foster parents. It was the lesser of two evils. 

 

"John?" Thomas' voice broke through his reverie. 

"Come in." He said, quietly, but Thomas heard him anyway. Stepping into the room, Thomas smiled at him, a gesture John returned, but it felt insincere. He was happy Thomas was here, it just took a lot of effort to smile sometimes. Thomas seemed unperturbed by his mood and instead hopped up onto the opposite side of the window sill. 

"What are you doing here?" John asked, eyeing off Thomas' uniform. 

"I've got lunch and two free periods. So I thought I'd come see you." Thomas shrugged. "How are you feeling?" 

It was John's turn to shrug. "Sore and tired." 

"I've got the remedy." Thomas winked, pulling a joint out of his trouser pocket, casually. John quirked a smile, leaning his head back against the frame. Thomas stuck the end of the joint between his lips, lighting the end a few times to get it going, before passing it across to John. 

When John tried to pass it back, Thomas shook his head.   
"I've got to go back to class remember? Can't ruin my perfect reputation now." He said and John chuffed, pulling the window up and blowing the sweet smoke out into the backyard. 

"Are you alright?" Thomas asked, head tilted lightly to the side. John dropped his gaze, taking another hit. 

"I will be, I think." He said and Thomas held out his hand for John to take. They sat there in silence, looking out over the neighbours backyards, their hands linked loosely between them. Eventually John tossed the nub of the joint out the window into the bushes below with a sigh. John's limbs felt blessedly warm, not so wound tight. 

"I've got to get back." Thomas said quietly. "I think it's bed time for you though." He smiled and John nodded, letting Thomas help him hobble over to his bed. Before he left, Thomas gathered John's face in his soft warm hands and kissed him gently. 

"Text us anytime, okay?" He whispered and gently pressed their foreheads together. 

"Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two updates in a week what a strange happening


	27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

Waking from his weed-induced sleep a few hours later, John didn't feel any better. Perhaps a weed nap wasn't the greatest idea, but at least he wasn't going to die of sleep depravation any time soon. James and Thomas had both texted him after school had ended, but John didn't feel like talking so he didn't even open them. 

His head felt as if it was filled with cotton, muffling the outside world. The room was dimming with the fading light of the afternoon, casting shadows across his walls. Julie would be home soon. He knew she'd immediately come check up on him, ask him questions, try get him to talk to her. But right then he just...couldn't. So, instead, John wrote 'I'm fine just sleeping' on a neon sticky note and pasted it on the outside of his door before closing it and throwing the lock. While he was up he drew the curtains, immediately feeling a little calmer in the dark. Tossing his crutch aside he crawled back under his duvet, pulling it up to his chin. 

 

John knew he should get up. At least make an effort in pursuit of normality. He needed to shower, change his shirt. His stomach growled in fury at having missed both dinner and breakfast consecutively, but he barely felt it. His phone buzzed a couple more times during the night, but by then John had turned the screen face down on his bedside table so the light wouldn't bother him. Julie, seeing the note, had let him be for the night. 

But after he woke mid morning, he could hear her soft steps hitting the stairs.   
"John?" She called out, rapping gently on his door. When he didn't immediately answer she knocked with more force.   
"I brought up some breakfast? Can I come in?" Another long stretch of silence. "Unless you want me to kick this door down, I suggest you get your butt up." 

Sighing, John dragged himself up and hobbled his way over to unlock the door. Settling back on the edge of the bed, Julie stepped in with a plate of scrambled eggs and toast and a deep furrow between her brows. 

"Why is it so dark in here?" Was the first thing she said, setting the plate down beside John on the bed, allowing her free hands to fuss about his room, drawing back curtains and picking up clothes from the floor. John watched her flit about in her cat pyjamas and fluffy pink robe, murmuring to herself about teenage boys' hygiene. John didn't touch the eggs yet, waiting for Julie to finish what ever she was doing so he could eat the minuscule amount of food necessary in peace before he would likely push it aside. 

"Eat, come on." Julie said, shoving clothes back into his spilled drawers. 

"You didn't have to make me breakfast. I'm  
Not even that hungry." John said, scratching at his arm distractedly. Julie paused at that, finally turning to face him, that line between her brows as deep as a valley. In quick strides she was in front of him, the back of her hand pressed against his forehead. John sighed internally. 

"Are you sick?" She asked, testing the skin of his neck. 

"No, I don't think so." He mumbled. 

"Then what's wrong?" 

"I don't know." He shrugged and she sat down beside him with a small sigh. 

"Are you worrying about going back to school?" She asked softly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He unconsciously relaxed into her side. He used to lean his head against her shoulder too, but he'd promptly grown too tall to reach anymore. 

"Everyone's going to know." John said quietly. Everyone would take one look at him and know that he was weak. He couldn't even fight off a drunken idiot like Woodes Fucking Rogers. He already felt so small, he couldn't take anymore blows. 

"You're a survivor, John, that much I know. There aren't many people who could go through what you've been through and come out the other side like you." 

"I don't feel like I've come out the other side at all. I feel like I'm stuck." In limbo. Caught between his shitty past and his present. John felt as if he would never escape the things that happened to him, the things people have said to him, the things they've done to him. He was only sixteen, he couldn't already be burnt out. 

"I don't feel right. I haven't felt right for a very long time, if ever." John's voice cracked halfway through and hot tears stung the corners of his eyes. 

"Oh honey." Julie sniffed, wrapping both arms around him, not too tight. His sternum was still tender. Tears drew tracks down his flushed cheeks and he buried his sobs in the soft fabric of Julie's robe. Her hand cupped the back of his head, stroking his curls gently to soothe him. 

"I'm sorry." John sniffed, drawing out of her embrace to wipe the gathered tears and snot from under his nose. "I know this couldn't've been what you were looking for in a foster kid." He'd had the thought many times over the last couple of years. But this was the first time he'd ever truly voiced it.

"John, listen to me." Julie said, tucking some curls behind his ear and swiping her thumb across a stray tear. "We knew what we were doing. We knew that we had to be careful with you. But, John, you were more than anything we had hoped for. You were considerate, and polite and you tried to get better. You worked so hard to be better, and you are." 

John felt his lip tremble slightly. "There are some things that weren't in my file. Some things that happened...with my last foster parents." Julie's expression drew down and John squirmed, chin dropping down the his chest as shame bubbled up from his stomach. 

Julie's warm hand against his cheek brought his gaze back up. There were tears swimming in her eyes, but she didn't look upset, in fact, she was even smiling a little.

"You're the first foster kid we've ever had, and you'll be the last. You're my son and nothing you can tell me will ever change that." John bit down hard on his bottom lip to stop the sob that clung to the back of his throat. 

"Now you're just trying to make me cry." John said and Julie huffed a laugh, wiping at the drying tear tracks along his cheeks. 

"Come downstairs for a while, hey? You've been cooped up in here for too long." She said and John nodded, pulling her into a hug.

 

That afternoon he picked up his phone and scrolled back through the messages from James and Thomas ranging from intense worrying to gentle acceptance that when he wanted to talk to them he would. Feeling like a horrible boyfriend, John started typing into their group chat. 

'I'm okay. It's just been a bad week. Sorry for not replying sooner.' 

The reply was almost instant. 

Thomas: 'Don't be sorry really we understand. We're just happy you're doing better. We miss you <3.' 

John smiled a little at that. He felt a sense of relief. He'd worried that they'd be angry at him for ignoring them for so long. Or that maybe they would've been turned off by his absence and recent moods. 

John: 'I miss you too.' 

He really did. Being around them always made him feel better, like his life maybe wasn't stuck on a slippery downward slope anymore. 

James: 'Are you up for some company?' 

John paused, chewing on his bottom lip. While Julie had practically forced him into the shower after their talk, complaining about smelly teenage boys. He was clean and his hair was finally washed, but he still didn't feel like he usual self. Although, Thomas and Flint had seen him at his worst, covered in blood and shaking like a leaf in a gust of wind. 

John: 'I could. I was thinking of watching a movie?' 

James: 'we can be there in 10'

Thomas: 'can I pick the movie?!'

 

Julie and Raf made themselves scarce upstairs when Thomas and Flint pushed past each other to get through the door to greet John. 

Thomas got to him first, wrapping his solid arms around John's shoulders and bringing him into the warmth of his chest. John sighed, tension bleeding out of him as he clung to the back of Thomas' shirt. Thomas seemed reluctant to let him go, instead holding the sides of his face to get a good look at him. 

"Your eye looks much better." He commented, drawing some curls back to look. His lip had healed over as well, leaving just a thin sensitive sliver of skin in its wake. 

"Okay, you can stop inspecting him now." Flint said, receiving a pout from Thomas and a half smile from John. When Thomas stepped aside, Flint took full advantage and tugged John into an embrace. John would never admit it to either of them, but he always liked Flint's hugs the best. Flint was taller and a little broader than Thomas, so when both of his long arms were tight around his waist, he felt completely encompassed. John let out a shaky sigh, turning his face into Flint's neck.

"You're okay." Flint murmured into his curls, rubbing a hand across his back. John nodded, cheek pressed against Flint's jumper and arms twined around his neck. 

"I'm sorry." John whispered and Flint pulled back to look him in the eye.

"You have nothing to be sorry about." He said, tucking his curls behind one ear, smiling when they just sprung back out. John had missed that smile these last few days. Craning up in his toes, John pressed their parted lips together. Flint sighed against his mouth, cupping the back of John's head to keep him there so he could kiss him again. 

Warmth swirled in John's stomach, pushing up into his chest and making his heart beat harder. Parting slightly, John flicked his eyes up to Flint's. Sea glass green, relieved, happy, but still full of concern. John pressed their foreheads together, his arm reaching out to grab Thomas' shoulder and pull him closer as well. A kiss couldn't fix everything, he knew that, but it was a start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My poor baby John what am I doing to him


	28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love confessions

John woke in the middle of the night, encompassed on both sides by warm, sleep heavy bodies. His leg was itching, right along his scar, and it travelled all the way down to his non-existent toes. He tried to rub his stump against the sheets, but to no avail. He could feel himself drifting further and further away from sleep. Eyes wide open now, John could make out the outline of Flint's face turned towards him, mouth slack and so still. 

"Fuck." John growled in a whisper, reaching a hand between their bodies to cup the end of his leg. Flint stirred against him, eyelids fluttering. 

"What's wrong?" Flint mumbled in a deep sleepy rasp. John cursed inwardly. 

"Nothing. Go back to sleep." John whispered, all to aware of Thomas' back pressed against his own, still expanding with slow breaths. Flint's eyes peaked open, but it was too dark for John to see his irises beneath his eyelashes. 

"Why are you holding your leg?" He asked, picking up the duvet to look. 

"It itches." John explained.

"Oh, your scar?" 

"No, my leg." John whispered and even in the dim lighting he could see realisation dawn upon Flint's face.

"Your..?"

"Yes." John said, biting back a squeak when Flint knocked his hand away to replace it with his wide soft palm over the scarred tissue. He'd never been touched like this. Sure when they were in bed together hands would graze over his scar as his legs were thrown over shoulders or pushed up to his chest and there was that one time Flint had placed the softest kiss there. But this, this somehow felt far more intimate than anything they'd ever done. 

"This okay?" Flint murmured, his face suddenly closer to John's on the pillow they'd ended up sharing. John swallowed and nodded, not trusting his voice just yet. Flint's thumb began to trace the length of the scar, and even though the sensation was dull to John, it still made his heart beat a little faster. Flint brought his leg up over to rest on his hip, simultaneously turning John onto his side and into Flint's space. Flint's eyes had dropped closed again, but his fingers still moved across his skin. 

"It's soft." Flint said suddenly after a long period of silence between them. "The scar." 

"You think?" John asked. Truthfully he didn't touch it all that often, unless he had to. 

"Must be all that moisturiser." Flint said, his lips quirking up on one side in a wry smile. John turned his chin so that he could smile into Flint's shoulder, so he could feel it against his skin. 

"Must be." He whispered. Flint's nose buried itself in his hair, his warm breath puffing against his scalp. 

"You know I love you right?" Was whispered by his ear. For a moment John thought that maybe he'd fallen back asleep, and Flint was speaking to him in a dream. But the beating heart beneath his ear told him otherwise. 

"I know." John responded. "I'm hopelessly in love with you two as well, if you hadn't already guessed." Flint huffed a laugh, nuzzling further into the crook of his neck. 

"When did you realise that you liked me?" Flint asked and John hummed.

"First time I saw you."

"When was that?" Flint asked.

"You don't remember?" 

"The first time you saw me was definitely not the first time I saw you." Flint said and John pressed his blushing cheek to the ball of his naked shoulder.

"First lesson of biology. I was so nervous, I could barely look at you." John admitted, just to feel Flint smile. 

"When did you know you were in love with me?" Flint asked and John had to think about it. 

"There wasn't really a specific moment. Maybe when you gave me that book."

"Dorian Gray?"

"That's the one." John said.

"I'm sure Oscar Wilde would have liked to know that his book was used by gay men to woo each other." Flint said and John smothered his laughter into his skin. 

"Is that what you were trying to do? 'Woo' me?" Flint's hand left his leg to travel up his thigh and across his flank to settle on his cheek.

"I was trying to make you happy." Flint said, and it felt like a confession to John's ears. 

"It worked." They had said so many meaningful things to each other, but they hadn't looked each other in the eye when they'd said them. John pulled back so that Flint's nose brushed over his cheekbone and their eyes finally met in the dark. All John could see was the reflection of the street lamp, a small circle of light bouncing off Flint's eyes, making them seem like lights themselves. 

"I love you." John repeated and Flint smiled, eyes crinkling and teeth gleaming. Flint's hand on his cheek guided him close enough for their lips to trace. The kiss felt like a release, a deep blissful sigh. There was no rush, no desperate need to take and give. They just kissed until John fell asleep, his lips still parted and shining and his arm tucked between their chest, one hand splayed over Flint's heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short chapter today unfortunately and don't worry guys John/Thomas will have their moment too :)


	29. Chapter Twenty-Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> School, secrets and a midnight call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow a months since my last update very sorry! This chapter longer than usual so I hope that helps :)

John was going back to school and he was terrified. He didn't really know why. Rogers was suspended indefinitely after Julie met with Headmistress Guthrie. So what was he so afraid of seeing once he shouldered open the main doors? 

Everything. He was scared of the attention, the questions, the comments. He was afraid of the sneers and snide remarks. He was afraid of their pity, their insincere investment in him. There was no chance he was coming out the other end unscathed. 

"You can't go to school just in trousers." Flint said pointedly, throwing a white button up at his face. John caught it with one hand and let it sit in his lap. Getting dressed in his uniform would feel like he was slipping manacles over his wrists and squeezing till they clicked. 

Thomas was sitting over by John's small desk, towelling his hair dry, cheeks flushed from his hot shower. At John's hesitance he dropped his hands into his lap, a curious tilt to his head.   
"You said you wanted to go?" He said, softly and John winced internally.

"I do want to. I'm going stir crazy in here I have to go back to normal." John said, pointedly slipping his shirt over his shoulders. 

"It's going to be fine, John." Thomas tossed him his tie, smiling when it hit him straight in the face. John sent him a warning look, but it lacked any real heat. 

"What if-"

"What if nothing." Flint cut him off, stepping between his knees to loop his tie around his neck. "We'll be right there with you all day when we can. Rogers is suspended indefinitely, alright? So there's no cause for stress." 

"What about all his friends?" John asked, tilting his chin back slightly to allow Flint to adjust the knot he'd just made. 

"Apparently someone named names. At least a couple of them are also suspended." Thomas piped in. Flint made a face, indicating over to Thomas as if to say 'see?'. 

"We only have two classes together." John replied, sweeping his curls back into a knot. Flint tucked some strands behind his ear. 

"Listen to me. If anyone so even dares to look at you funny today, they're going to have to answer to me, Thomas and Miss Guthrie, 'cause she's not taking anyone's shit anymore apparently." Flint smiled a little at the end and John groaned.

"Ugh, she wants to see me before school." 

"Well then we'd better get going." 

 

Thomas held John's hand all the way from the car park to the main entrance, not even flinching when John's grip tightened as the three of them stepped into the hall. It was still early in the morning, so there were only a dozen or so people milling around, but each and everyone one of them turned their way. John's squeezed Thomas' hand so tight it must have hurt. 

"Ignore them." Thomas whispered, stroking along his forearm with his unoccupied hand until he relaxed slightly. On his opposite side, Flint looked supremely unhappy with everyone's blatant gawking and made sure to stare every one of them down until they dropped their gaze. 

 

"Mr Silver, you're looking well." Miss Guthrie said as she ushered him into her office. John was surprised by her sincerity and the almost warm smile on her face. 

"Considering." John said, settling himself in the chair across from her desk. 

"Considering." She repeated, then with a little twitch in her brow she continued. "Was that Mr Flint and Mr Hamilton I saw sitting outside?" John tried not to blush too dark as he nodded. 

"I suppose they wouldn't be letting you stray very far." She smiled. They'd both been adamant about walking him to his first class, even if they were late for their own. "Well, Mr Silver, I asked to see you this morning to check in on you. Your foster mother has been working closely with us while you've been recovering. Considering you are taking Mr Rogers to court, I'd like you to know that no matter the outcome, he will not be returning to this school. He is, in fact, as of today banned from school premises." 

John's eyes widened in surprise. Banned from school premises? He wouldn't be coming back, ever. 

"Thank you." John didn't know what else to say. 

"I also wanted to speak to you...to apologise." Miss Guthrie's tone grew more serious and the confusion must be clear on his face. "I feel there was more we could have done for you. I can't help but wonder if I'd taken his behaviour towards you and others more seriously then you wouldn't be in this situation. For that I'm truly sorry." John was once again stunned. 

"You don't need to apologise, really. I've dealt with people like him my whole life, Miss Guthrie, it's just how they are and nothing you could have done would have stopped that." Miss Guthrie looked taken aback by his admission. 

"You're a strong kid, John." She said, a little bit of awe in her voice as they shared a small smile. "We do have a councillor here at the school, if you'd ever like someone to talk to. If you want to find someone outside of course I'm sure she can have you some referrals." 

John would be lying if he hadn't thought about it. Therapy, that is. They'd offered it to him at the hospital, right after his surgery, when everything around him felt like it was behind a wall of water. But he'd outright refused, out of anger, out of fear. He didn't want to know that he was more broken. But after the past week, he was beginning to think that these doubts, these anxieties that keep him awake, were not just going to go away. 

"I'll think about it." John said and Miss Guthrie looked pleased. He wouldn't talk to the councillor. But maybe Julie could find someone for him. 

"Alright, well I'll let you all get to class." She stood up to let him out. "My doors always open. Come back anytime." John nodded, slipping out of the door. 

Flint and Thomas stood bolt upright when they saw him, questions swimming in their eyes. 

"How'd it go?" Thomas asked, steering them down the hallway. 

"You know, I think Miss Guthrie's secretly a huge softy." John said, delighting in the twin expressions of confusion and disbelief on Flint and Thomas' faces.

 

Going to class alone was hard. John tried to shrug off the stares and whispers, but it was beginning to grate on him. Maybe he could just get up and leave? Walk straight out the doors and off school grounds. No explanation, no permission. What a fantasy. 

But if he gave up now, Thomas and Flint would be upset. They'd try to hide it of course. Smile at him and shrug their shoulders as if to say 'oh, well!' But inside they would worry. John hated making people worry about him. 

"Hey, John." A familiar voice brought him out of his mild panic. Muldoon took the seat beside him, smiling at John like nothing was amiss. 

"Hi." John replied, his voice falling a little flat. Muldoon took a second to look him over, twitching slightly when his gaze caught the yellow-brown bruises around his throat. John wished he could hide them behind his hair but school rules forced him to keep it tied back, letting everyone see. 

"I'm sorry." Muldoon blurted out and John screwed up his brow. 

"For what exactly?" He asked and Muldoon sighed. 

"For ditching you that night. I forced you to come and then I left you there. Maybe if I'd been there-"

"That wouldn't have stopped him." John cut through.

"Still, it was really shitty of me." Muldoon said.

"I told you it was fine then and I'm telling you it's fine now. So believe me." John said and Muldoon sighed, nodding his acceptance, although some guilt still stirred behind his expression. The teacher walked in before John could say anymore. 

 

At lunch, Flint and Thomas were treating him like he was a pampered prince or something: buying his lunch for him, kissing him and letting him splay out on the grass between them, his head in Flint's lap and his crossed legs in Thomas'. With the sun beaming down on his face and the chatter of their friends a distant hum, it was unsurprising that he began to drift off. Through his half conscious haze John caught snippets of the conversation above him, tuning in when his name was mentioned.

"Is John asleep?" That was definitely Billy. The back of Flint's fingers brushed over his cheek and when he didn't rouse a small chuckle left him. 

"It appears so. He needs it." Flint said.

"Is he okay?" Miranda's soft voice filtered through his foggy mind. 

"Getting better, I think."

"So what the hell actually happened? All we've heard is gossip." Miranda asked in a hushed tone. 

"It was awful." Thomas said, the hand he had laid on John's shin giving a light squeeze. "He just turned up at the door. He'd walked there from the party. God, I've never seen so much blood." 

"Christ." Billy said.

"He could've killed him." Flint's fingers dipped down to softly touch the marks along his neck. 

"He seems a little...subdued. I mean he's always been a bit quiet but..." Miranda tailed off and John couldn't quit tell if she's actually stopped talking or he'd fallen into actual sleep for a moment. What he did feel was Flint's deep sigh and his hand resting over John's sternum, which barely twinged anymore. 

"I think it brought up a lot of old stuff. Some things we know about, some I'm sure he's keeping to himself. We're just...trying keep everything simple and easy so that he can reorientate himself, I guess." John wanted to cover Flint's hand on his chest with his own, but then they would all know he was listening. He felt a little guilty for keeping their friends in perpetual darkness. They'd grown closer over the past few months, but still, it felt like they barely knew him. 

John sighed, linking his fingers with Flint's over his chest, smiling slightly when Flint immediately gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze. 

"Hey." Flint said softly from above him and John blinked his eyes against the glare of the sun. "You fell asleep on me." 

"Only a little." John said and Flint's expression dropped, looking caught out. Turning his head to the side, Miranda and Billy were looking equally cowed.

"Don't look so freaked out. I don't care that you were talking about me." John said, tossing an arm behind his head.

"We didn't mean to talk about you like you weren't right there." Billy said.

"No, seriously, I get it. A lot of shit has been going on and I don't really talk to you guys about the real shit." 

"And we're not trying to force you to tell us anything." Miranda quickly reassured. 

"I know. There's a lot of things I want to keep to myself, of course, but there's one kind of huge thing that I think you should know." As soon as he said it he could feel Flint and Thomas' shocked gazes on him. He was a little surprised himself. Was he really going to do this?

"Okay." Miranda nodded, looking serious. 

"Well...how to start I guess? Um, I was actually in a really bad car accident when I was thirteen. I survived, but a friend of mine who was driving didn't." 

"Holy shit." Billy muttered. John lifted himself out of Flint's lap, keeping their hands linked tight. 

"They had to cut me out of the wreck. My leg was crushed under the dashboard and by the time I got to the hospital they only thing they could do was...amputate." Miranda and Billy's eyes bugged out of their skulls, immediately cutting their stares to where John still had his legs half in Thomas' lap. 

"Woah." Billy said. 

"So, yeah. Right leg from the knee down is a prosthetic." John lifted it from Thomas' lap and swiveledvaround until his legs were splayed out in front of him. 

"That's incredible, John." Miranda said, awe in her voice. He could feel Thomas' proud smile beaming his way and it warmed him. Instead of disgust, like John had always feared, they'd reacted with shock and...an almost immediate acceptance. A massive hefting weight was dragged off John's shoulders. Flint and Thomas had shown him that his leg wasn't something to be ashamed of, but it wasn't until right that moment that John believed that it was like a scar, permanent on his body and a symbol of what he'd survived. 

 

He made it. The entire day. And it wasn't even a fraction of how terrible he'd thought it would be. 

"Well done." Flint said softly, backing John up against the door of his car, hands at his waist and a smirk on his face. John gaped up at him, melting back against the door as Flint took his face in his hands and kissed him like he was a drowning man starved for air. John whimpered against his mouth, clenching his hands at Flint's waist to tug him impossibly closer. Flint used his light grip to tilt John's head to the side so that he could force his tongue past his lips. John moaned, uncaring of the thinning swarm of students circumventing parked cars to head out the front gates. They were just background noise. All he could focus on was Flint's hips pressed against his and the tongue that was driving him wild. 

 

"Alright, you'd given him his reward. Now get in the car before we get detention for misconduct or god forbid get arrested for indecent exposure." Thomas' amused voice filtered through the fog in John's mind and he broke the kiss, panting against Flint's slick lips. 

"Um, are you coming over to mine?" John's voice broke halfway through his question and he turned cherry red all over his face. Flint grinned at him, caressing his cheek with the back of his hand and kissing him softly and way too briefly for John's liking. 

"I'm afraid not today. I've got to drive straight to my grandparents house. I've been forced into a family gathering." John pouted at him, earning another sweet kiss because he knew Flint couldn't resist it. 

"Couldn't you come over after?" He whinged. 

"I'm staying the night, its a bit of a drive up." 

"God damnit." John cursed and Flint brushed their lips together not turning it into a real kiss. Flint suddenly pushed his hips forward, right against John's half hard cock and John squeaked.

"Save this for me, yeah?" Flint smirked as he spun away, leaving John cold and now almost fully hard. 

"I'm going to murder you." John growled, slipping into the backseat to a chorus of Flint and Thomas' teasing laughter. 

 

For the first time in what felt like weeks, when John's head hit the pillow that night he sunk into sleep with the ease of a long, weary sigh. He dreamt of the ocean, although he hadn't been to the beach since he was a toddler. It was strange to not feel panic when he dreamt. Instead his mind was letting him feel the heat of the sun on his skin and soft sand beneath his head. Then, growing louder and more urgent was a ringing. A phone. His phone. 

John's eyes blinked open to semi darkness pierced by the light from his phone that was vibrating around his side table. Groggily John picked up the offending sound, eyes taking a moment to focus on the screen. Thomas calling... 

What? It was nearly twelve a.m. Was he still dreaming?

"Thomas?" John answered. 

"Hey, sorry I woke you." Thomas replied, but his voice sounded strained, a little panicked. 

"What's going on? Are you okay?" John sat up. There was a sniff on the other end of the line and a humourless huff. 

"Um...I'm kind of at your front door." John's eyebrows flew up into his hair and he shuffled to the end of the bed to toss some clothes on, keeping the phone by his ear. 

"What? Why? I'm coming down." John scrambled for his crutch, hobbling his way down the stairs, concern growing as he heard Thomas' shaky breathing through the phone. 

When the door swung open John couldn't believe what he was seeing. Thomas turned to him, illuminated by the porch light. He was in his pyjamas, no shoes, just his keys and his phone in one hand. Christ, he must be freezing. 

Thomas' face crumpled upon seeing him, and John quickly tugged him inside out of the cold. Immediately Thomas clung to him, arms tight around his shoulders and his face turned into his neck. 

"Thomas, what's going on? What happened?" John said softly, rubbing across his back his soothe him. Thomas let out a heart wrenching sob, his fingers clenching in John's t-shirt.

"I'm sorry. I was going to go to James' but he's not home. I didn't want to bother you. You're doing to well I didn't want to put this on you-" Thomas rambled, still tucked in to the crook of his neck. John could feel wetness seeping through the collar of his t-shirt. 

"Don't worry about me. What's happened?" Thomas pulled back to wipe the tears from his face. John flicked on the hall light and Thomas cringed. 

"My dad came home. I haven't seen him in months. We got into a huge fight a-about James and then you." Thomas sucked in a breath, new tears spilling over and John wiped them away, pulling him back into an embrace. 

"He didn't know about you. We never talk. He's such a self righteous fuck." John cupped the back of Thomas' head, running his fingers through his short hair to try and soothe him. But he was trembling all over, whether from residual anger or something else, John couldn't tell. 

"Was your mum there?" John asked and Thomas' lip quivered. 

"She started crying and we were all yelling. I thought the cops were going to be called on us. All the things he was saying...God, I hate him. He's never been able to accept that I'm with James, never. So when he found out about you too." Thomas shook his head. 

"I've never seen him that angry. He told me I couldn't see either of you. He threatened to send me away. Mum was crying so much, Christ. I told him that he could do what he wants to me I'd always be his gay son and then he slapped me." John gasped, holding Thomas' head in his hands, turning his face into the light and there emblazoned on his cheek was the fierce red outline of a hand. 

"Jesus, we need to put some ice on this." John held his hand and guided him into the kitchen, turning on lights as he went. Gently, John sat him down on one of the kitchen stools and went to go find an ice pack. 

"He's never done that before. I was so shocked I think we all just froze for a second. Then I just left. Grabbed my keys and my phone and ran out. John, what am I going to do?" Thomas crumpled in his seat, dropping his head into his hands. John's heart clenched, and he fought back the tears that pricked in the corners of his eyes. 

"Look at me." John said softly, and when Thomas lifted his head he gently pressed the ice pack against his hot cheek. "There's nothing you can do right now. There nothing you can do tonight. Leaving was the right thing to do." Thomas nodded along. 

At the top of the stairs a light blinked on and they both froze. 

"John? Is that you downstairs?" Julia called out. 

"Yeah, its me." John replied and he could hear her soft footsteps against the carpeted stairs. Her expression changed from confusion to shock when she caught sight of Thomas hunched over the kitchen counter, a gel pack pressed to his face. 

"Thomas, sweetheart, are you okay?" Julie gasped, placing a comforting hand across his back. Thomas sniffed, eyes wide and swimming blue. He opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. 

"He got into a fight with his dad. A big one." John said for him and Julie sighed. 

"Oh, honey. What's this?" Julie asked, touch the gel pack and Thomas pulled it away so she could see the mark. "Jesus! He did that to you?" Thomas nodded, and was simultaneously swept up into a hug. 

"You know I hate seeing my beautiful boys so upset." She said and Thomas laughed wetly. When Julie pulled back she just held Thomas' face in her hands for a while, taking a good look at him. 

"You look exhausted, sweetheart. Do you want some tea? I've also got whiskey." She said and Thomas cracked a smile. 

"I'll be okay, thank you. You wouldn't mind if I stayed tonight?" He asked. 

"Of course not." John and Julie answered at the same time. "You're always welcome, you know that." Julie reminded him. 

"We'll just go to bed, yeah?" John asked, taking Thomas' hand. 

"Goodnight, you two. Wake me up if you need anything." Julie said patting Thomas on the back before heading back up to her room. John brought their linked hands up to his face and kissed Thomas' knuckles, very aware of the slight tremor in Thomas' hands. 

"Come on, you can bring the ice pack with you." John said, pulling him up the stairs into his room. Thomas sniffed, although his tears seemed to have dried up. When they both got into bed, they migrated towards each other, ending up in a tangle of limbs. Thomas's face was pressed into his sternum, having wriggled down the mattress to reach. John's whole chest felt warm with it. Thomas' arms held him around the waist. The emotional exhaustion finally caught up with Thomas and he drifted off quickly. John stayed up for a little longer, watching Thomas slowly relax and sink into the curve of his body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now that's uni's finishing up I promise I'll update more so I can finish this godamn story! <3


	30. Chapter Thirty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I know it's been more than a month and you all hate me but I am so close to finishing this story so hopefully that will kick me up the arse to actually write it!

Slipping out from the warmth of the duvet, John silently padded across his room, cautious of the sleeping blonde who was curled around one of his pillows. 

The smell of bacon and eggs wafted up from the downstairs kitchen and John followed it eagerly, stomach already beginning to grumble in protest. 

"Morning." Julie smiled at him, serving up two plates of toast bacon and scrambled eggs. 

"Morning. Smells good." John yawned.

"Thomas awake yet?" Julie asked, and John shook his head, pouring himself a glass of juice. 

"Nope, dead asleep last time I checked." 

"Did he get much sleep last night?" John could only shrug. 

"Did you?" Julie furthered and John sighed. 

"No, not really." Julie stretched up onto her tip toes to kiss him on the forehead as she thrust two plates of food into his hands. 

"Up you go." She said nudging him towards the stairs.

 

Thomas was awake and looking at his phone with a line between his brows when John shouldered the door open and kicked it shut in his wake. Thomas' gaze snapped up from the screen and a soft, happy smile bloomed across his slightly haggard face. 

"Don't look too impressed. I didn't make it." John said, handing a plate to Thomas who was shuffling up against the headboard. 

"God forbid." Thomas teased. They sat crossed legged beside each other in relative silence, save for the scratch of cutlery. Thomas had his phone out again and was scrolling up and down, lines tensing around his mouth and eyes. 

"Everything okay?" John asked and Thomas locked his phone and put it face with on the bed with a sigh.

 

"Mum's texted me a thousand times. I should probably go see her after school." 

"You want to go to school?" John's eyes widened in surprise. Thomas shrugged, licking grease and crumbs off his fingers. 

"James is supposed to meet us there, right? If don't turn up he'll freak out and worry too much. Anyway, I'm okay. Redness has gone down." Thomas touched his cheek and John used his fingers to turn his chin to take a look for himself and hummed. 

"You don't have to go in. You could stay here." John offered and Thomas smiled at him so softly it was barely even there. 

"I have to go home. I don't have any clothes with me or my uniform. Come with me? I don't know if he's still there." Thomas took his hand with pleading eyes and John brought his hand up to press a kiss to his fingers. 

"Of course."

 

Thomas' mother wasn't home when they turned up, yet Thomas still looks tense, eyes watching the door, aware of every sound the house made.

John followed him up to his room and sat on the edge of his bed while he changed into his uniform.  
"Why isn't your mum here? It's early." 

"She usually has coffee out. Which is why we need to hurry and leave before she gets back." Thomas said, fingers fumbling over his shirt buttons in his haste.

"Stay at mine for a while." John said and Thomas turned to him. "At least for a couple days, to let things calm down?" 

Thomas stared at him for a moment, thoughts passing across his face, so easily read by John. He wanted to say yes, that was obvious. What was also obvious was that Thomas was used to being the one taking care of others, and not the other way around. 

"Before you even start, it's not an imposition. You and Flint are always around, Julie and Raf don't mind. They love you guys." Thomas chin dropped down to his chest and he sighed. 

"I'll have to leave a note, so my mother doesn't think I'm dead." He said and John smiled.

When they finally made it to school, just minutes before the first bell, Flint met them by the parking lot. He kissed them both hello. But when he pulled back from Thomas, one hand still cradled around the nape of his neck, it was clear he could sense something was wrong. 

"Something happened." He said, eyes flicking between John and Thomas. 

"I'm staying at John's for a couple days. Dad came home last night." Flint's expression immediately dropped. 

"What the fuck did he do?" Flint asked, nostrils flaring. John touched his upper arm, and he deflated a little. 

"Typical homophobic shit as always." Thomas said, gaze dropped to Flint's throat instead of his eyes. 

"He must have done something else? You've gotten into these fights before. He usually just leaves. Why are you?" 

"Well...we were screaming at each other and between one second and the other he slapped me." Flint's expression grew thunderous and John was immediately brought back to the night of the party, looking up at Flint from Thomas' couch, watching him clench up with fury. 

Flint's hands were gentle when he touched Thomas' cheek, along the very faint pink blotch.  
"I'm okay. I went to John's last night too." The morning bell rudely interrupted them and Flint's face twitched with a mix of emotions John couldn't piece together. With a sigh, Flint kissed Thomas softly with the promise to see him at lunch before taking John's hand to walk them to English. 

 

John could see Flint staring at Thomas, watching every twitch in his face for a sign he wasn't okay. John and Flint had their sides pressed together, their legs splayed out before them across the grass. 

"Flint. You're going to freak him out if you keep looking at him like that." John leant over to murmur into his ear. Flint squirmed, leaning back on his hands, gaze flicking around Thomas, who was deep in conversation with Miranda not five feet away. 

"Miranda and I will be right back." Thomas announced, dusting the blades of grass from his trousers.

"Where are you going?" Flint asked and Thomas rolled his eyes down at him.

"The library, James." Thomas huffed, following Miranda, leaving Flint and John alone. 

"Does he seem alright to you?" Flint asked, gaze still on Thomas' retreating figure. 

"Yes, a little tired. But I suppose that's not entirely strange since he turned up at mine past midnight." John said and Flint tore his gaze away to look at John. 

"How was he then?" 

"Not good." John said, sadly and Flint sighed. 

"That bastard father of his. It's been years, yet Thomas still cares what he thinks of him. Hopefully now he'll see how much of a cowardly shit he really is. He's not worth a second thought." John couldn't help but agree, even though he'd never met the man. But if someone could put calm, kind hearted Thomas in such a state, then John would never wish to meet him. 

"He caught us together when we were fifteen. I was still with Miranda then, but she knew about Thomas and I." Flint's jaw pulsed and John covered one of his hands with his own. 

"We weren't doing anything really. Everything was still so new between us. But we were in his bed and then his father walked in. I've never seen terror like what I saw on Thomas' face." Flint sighed deeply. "Obviously they began to fight. I ran home. I felt guilty about leaving Thomas there. I thought for sure that we were over. Thank goodness for Thomas' stubbornness." John smiled.

"Well we can always count on that." He said and Flint's mouth twitched into a smile. His hand slid around the back of his neck, fingers buried beneath the tie, bringing their lips together in a sweet, lingering kiss. 

"Thank you for taking care of him when I couldn't." Flint whispered against his mouth. John's fingers touched his cheek. 

"That's what we do." 

 

John and Thomas were giggling like children as they walked up to John's front door. John kept trying to sling his arm over Thomas' shoulders but kept slipping off because of their distinct height difference. Even on his tip toes, John's arm would only just manage to rest over his shoulders before he inevitably dropped back onto flat feet and his arm would slide down his back. Thomas found it endlessly amusing, his bright smile and laugh turning John's pout into soft giggles. 

"You're just going to have to settle for being the arm rest." Flint piped up, emphasising his point by dropping a heavy arm down around his shoulders. John tossed it off, which resulted in a small playful scuffle breaking out wherein John was chased through the front door. 

With a wide, beaming smile, John dodged Flint's grasping hands and ran into the kitchen, nearly knocking Julie over. 

"Jesus!" She yelled in surprise. 

"Sorry." John said. Flint and Thomas were reflecting his childish grin as they settled onto stools across the kitchen counter. Julie's expression shifted slightly into something unfamiliar, and she opened her mouth twice before speaking. 

"We got a court date." She said into the silence. John swallowed down the nervous tingles travelling up his spine and filling his throat. 

"When?" Flint asked for him. 

"It's two weeks from today...John?" She tacked on hesitantly. John shifted where he stood, glancing at all of them with a tight lipped smile. 

"Two weeks, got it. I'll be right back." John said in a rush, spinning on his heel and making his way towards his room before anyone had the chance to say anything more. 

Closing the door softly behind him, John leant back against it and exhaled deeply.  
He felt anxiety churning in his stomach and he closed his eyes against a wave of nausea. John got dressed slowly, waiting until his heart stopped beating so fast before heading back downstairs.

Thomas and Flint were sitting at the kitchen counter while Julie insisted on making them snacks as usual. John had shaken off the brief panic and he smiled to try show them he was okay.

Julie leant over the counter with her hands on Thomas cheeks.  
"You look much better today, sweetheart." She said and John could see the pinkening of his ears and cheeks under her hands and it made his stomach swoop. 

"Sorry for turning up last night so late." Thomas said and Julie waved him off. 

"Don't even think about it. I'm glad you came here. And I'm glad you're staying for a while. But does your mum know where you are?" Thomas picked at the crust of his sandwich and nodded. 

"I left a note. She knows." 

"Okay, that's all I need to know." Julie smiled. 

Handing John a toasted sandwich on a plate, Julie fixed up his hair he'd carelessly let loose from its tie. 

"I think it's about time you got a haircut, John." Julie mused, tugging at the ends of his hair. Almost in sync, Flint and Thomas' head's snapped up in horror. 

"I told you I like it long." John rolled his eyes, smirking at Flint and Thomas. They both looked abashed. 

"I know but just a trim? No more than a few inches?" 

"Maybe." 

"Ugh." 

 

"You absolutely cannot cut your hair." Flint murmured, from where he lay pressed up against John's back, fingers running deeply through his loosened curls. John was preening under the attention, eyes half closed, practically purring as Flint's nails scratched over his scalp in a soothing motion. 

"It's past my shoulders. I need to cut it." John sighed, a shiver running down his spine when Flint's fingers massaged circles into the nape of his neck. It was getting late. Flint's parents wanted him home tonight because they didn't believe he was getting any work done spending all his free time with them. 

"But I love it." Flint protested, nosing along his hairline. John huffed a laugh.

"It would look the same as it did at the beginning of the year." 

"Hmm." Flint replied ambiguously, but John could tell he was warming up to the idea. John felt his cheek slowly flushing under the focused attention and he squirmed, earning a small laugh from Flint. 

"I have to go." Flint groaned, kissing the space behind his ear. John sighed, grabbing onto Flint's shirt from behind him. 

"No." John whined, flipping over to kiss Flint, licking into his mouth to try convince him to stay. Flint moaned, gathering John's hair in two hands and tugging before releasing him completely with a groan. 

"I've really got to go." He said, rolling away from John's pawing hands. John harrumphed, splaying out on his bed and pouting as Flint gathered his things. 

"John." Flint smirked, brushing his cheek and kissing him softly. The shower shut off and Thomas popped his head out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. 

"You're going?" He asked, still dewy from the shower and Flint kissed him goodbye, slow and deep. 

"I'll pick you up tomorrow morning." Flint said before leaving. 

Thomas quirked his eyebrows at John who was still sprawled out on the bed, cheeks pink and turned on. John smiled toothily, eyes tracing over the Thomas' bare dewy skin. 

"He's the biggest tease in the world." John huffed, and Thomas smiled tugging the towel from his waist to dry his hair. John groaned as Thomas laughed. 

"Not you too!" John cried and Thomas' eyes crinkled with his sunshine smile, tossing the towel over the back of his desk chair and climbing onto the bed. John went quiet, hands tracing over Thomas' arms to the ball of his shoulders, Thomas' skin feeling warm to the touch from his hot shower. Thomas hummed, slipping between John's legs, pushing his hips against John's erection which was straining through his sweats. 

"Oh you poor baby." Thomas laughed, lips barely brushing over John's, pulling back when John tilted up, mouth seeking. 

"Yes, poor me." John dead panned, licking over Thomas' lips before taking his mouth. John moaned, dragging his hands down Thomas' spine to grab his ass. Thomas bit down on his bottom lip, causing John to hiss and dig his nails into Thomas' skin. 

"Fuck, John." Thomas groaned, pushing John's t-shirt up to kiss over his chest, setting his teeth into John's nipples, making him arch and sigh. Thomas' weight pressing down on him was making him dizzy with want and his breathing quickly turned into something quick and gasping. 

"Thomas." John whispered, fingers dragging through his damp hair. Hot lips trailed up the sensitive skin along his flank, fingers pushing his t-shirt up until he could wriggle out of it and toss it across the room. 

"I really, really want you to fuck me. Is that okay?" Thomas asked sweetly while John choked on air. Taking this as a yes, Thomas slipped his tongue into John's mouth to hush his ramblings. John's felt like he was on fire, and he was still wearing most of his clothes. God, this was actually going to kill him. He was going to have an aneurism the second he got inside Thomas, he swore. 

"Well?" Thomas cheeked, rolling them over so that John was now between Thomas' bare, spread legs. 

"Christ."


	31. Chapter Thirty-One

Beneath John's eager hands Thomas seemed to melt. Each muscle unwound as Thomas sank into the duvet, heavy limbs drawing John closer, deeper inside him. John couldn't keep his eyes off Thomas for one second, afraid he'd miss a twitch of his eyebrows or a silent moan. He'd never seen Thomas like this, yielding to his pleasure so easily, like falling into a deep sleep. Thomas always appeared in control, thinking before every move he made. 

When they'd fallen into bed together with Flint by their side, Thomas was the one they both looked to for guidance and approval. So to have Thomas squirming and panting beneath him, giving himself over completely, was a heady and rather intense feeling.

"John." Thomas spoke for the first time since John had settled firmly between his pale thighs. Sweat beaded across both their foreheads so that when John dropped forward to press their cheeks together, they could feel their combined heat against their skin. 

"Thomas." John said in a strangled voice, hips still working to draw those otherworldly sounds from Thomas' mouth. 

"Kiss me." Thomas whispered, and when John pulled himself up, Thomas was looking up at him through slitted eyes, a slight upturn to the corner of his mouth. Returning the smile, John took both of Thomas' hands in his own, linking their fingers together and bringing them over Thomas head to press them down into the plush give of the pillow. Thomas' eyes glittered and a lazy smile turned the corners of his lips, tempting John forward into a slow, spine tingling kiss. 

"Is this okay?" John panted, eyes searching his face for any sign of unease. But Thomas' smile just grew wider and he squeezed their linked hands. 

"I'm definitely okay." Thomas said, voice dropping on octave at the end as a particular thrust hit him in all the right places. John nodded, gut clenching and unclenching as pleasure sparked tinders in his stomach. Pressed tightly together, Thomas' cock was leaving trails of sticky fluid across both of their stomachs. John hoped Thomas was close, because by the way he was looking up at him through pale lashes, eyes dark and lips wet and red as cherries, he would not be able to hold back for much longer. 

To distract himself from the silken vice of Thomas' body, John sucked bruises along the pale expanse of his throat and collarbones. Thomas keened, calves clenching around the backs of his thighs, moulding them together impossibly closer. John felt raw, unable to articulate what was passing between them. John had never been this in control of someone else. Thomas was putting all his trust into him to protect him, to give him comfort and release and love. It was overwhelming. 

"Thomas - I -" John croaked out. 

"Yes." Thomas moaned. "Do it." 

"Jesus." John groaned, hips stuttering as he came. Thomas hummed, releasing John's hands to help guide his hips back into a semblance of a rhythm, drawing out his orgasm and bringing Thomas straight over the brink. Thomas was silent as he spurted messily between them, mouth open and eyes screwed shut, all that left his mouth was a shuddering sigh before he went completely lax. Limbs quaking, John collapsed half on top of him, smiling softly when Thomas' arms immediately curled around him, holding him close.

 

Thomas was gazing at him with an unreadable but undeniably soft expression, their heads turned towards each other on the same pillow. His hand was cupped around the side of his neck, fingers winding and unwinding the shorter curls along his nape. 

"Thomas..." John spoke without thinking, not quite sure where he was going. Thomas' eyebrows quirked in interest, his expression telling him 'yes? go on'. John faltered under his steady gaze, pinching his bottom lip between his teeth. 

"I...don't know what I was going to say." He admitted, cheeks pinking. Thomas smiled, rolling forward to press their lips together. Thomas' mouth was sweet and soft against his, tongues briefly meeting. When Thomas pulled back, John blinked open his eyes against the haze that had overtaken him. This close all he could see was Thomas, the darkened blue of his eyes, the arch of his eyebrow and very faintly the fine blonde hairs that made themselves visible in the shafts of light coming from the moon and the street lamp outside his window.

"I love you." John once again spoke without really thinking. "...I think that was what I was going to say." He stuttered. Thomas' palm cupped his cheek to still his nervous fumbling with a barely there kiss. 

"Do I get to answer before you dissolve into an anxious puddle?" Thomas' eyes were full of mirth and John nodded.  
"Good, because I do love you too." 

For the second time, John felt weightless. Thomas loved him. Flint loved him. He couldn't believe it. With a bursting smile, John rolled on top of Thomas and kissed his laughing face. 

"Say it again." John murmured, his hair providing a curtain around their faces. Thomas' eyes crinkled with his smile. 

"I love you."

 

Two Weeks Later

"John, look at me." Flint's low voice spoke to him. Warm hands cupped his cheeks and lifted his head. Flint checked him over, the back of his knuckles softly stroking his paling cheeks. John knew there were deep circles under his eyes from sleepless nights, he could feel the weariness in his bones. They were ten minutes away from entering the courtroom and John felt like he was either going to crawl out of his skin or crumble straight to the floor.

"It's simple, John. You've given a written testimony. The hard part is done. You only need to be here as a formality." John nodded, leaning into Flint's hands. 

"I just want it to be done." He said, quietly. John felt queasy, skin flushing in rolling motions. 

"John? Here." Julie was passing over John's crutches while Flint watched on with growing confusion; John was already wearing his prosthetic. 

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" Flint followed John as he sat down on a bench along the wall. Slightly out of breath, Thomas came around the corner, cheeks flushed from his quick pace. 

"I'm so sorry I'm so late, my car kept stalling. John, what are you doing?" Thomas tilted his head to the side. John ignored them both for a moment as he rolled up his pant leg and unstrapped his prosthetic. 

"Wha - I don't understand." Thomas and Flint shared a glance. Pinning the end of his pants back, John hopped up to his feet, crutches under his arms, a slightly wavering smile on his face. 

"I want to make sure that asshole gets the maximum punishment. If that means I have to manipulate the judge a little, I'm okay with playing the helpless victim." Both Flint and Thomas' jaws dropped. 

"Did your lawyer tell you to do this?" Flint asked, eyebrows screwed up. 

"It was my idea. I want to see his face when he sees me." 

"After this...everyone's going to know. Rogers' brother is in there, he's going to tell everyone at school." Flint warned him. 

"It was going to happen sometime." John shrugged, feeling a little more centred. He couldn't hide forever. He didn't want to hide forever. 

Thomas' hands cupped his face. "If you're sure about this..." 

"I am, I swear." John nodded. 

"John." Julie came to his side. "It's time to go in." 

 

Rogers was the first person he saw as he swung his way into the courtroom. It was smaller than he'd imagined, not like you'd see on TV. There were only twenty or so people sitting. But they were a blur to John. His eyes were locked on Rogers, who was staring straight back at him, shock and confusion written across his face. The woman John assumed was his lawyer looked irked by his appearance, and obviously concerned. Rogers was steadily growing paler and more sickly as John got closer. 

He could feel everyone's eyes on him, but he didn't care. All he cared about, was making Woodes Rogers look like the violent, pretentious asshole he knew him to be. Laying his crutches on the floor beside his chair, John actually felt like smiling.

 

Three hundred hours community service. A criminal record and an order to not come within a hundred metres of John lest he wished to spend a few nights in jail. 

Not immediately jumping up and down with joy was one of the hardest things John has ever had to do. Biting his lip to smother his smile, John dutifully followed Julie out of the courthouse and into the parking lot. It was there they all stopped: Julie, Raf, Flint, Thomas and John, and stood for a moment in silence before ecstatic smiles burst out of them. In a mere second, John was wrapped up in a messy tangle of Flint and Thomas' arms, both of them squeezing the air out of him. 

"Hey, hey-" Flints hands were on his face, wiping away tears he hadn't noticed rolling down his cheeks. "It's over." John nodded, relief making him feel like he was going to crumple. 

"It's over." He repeated back to him, trying to settle that idea in his head. It was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be an epilogue that will be probably this length and I hope to have it up soon! I promise it won't be slow like my last updates!


	32. Chapter Thirty-Two: Epilogue

Two Months Later 

Being let out early from school on a Friday afternoon was a phenomenon that solely lent itself to the school's system's greatest waste of time: parent-teacher interviews. Twice a year students were pushed off school grounds so that parents could flock in for an afternoon of being talked at by teachers, who more often than not, had a folder of student ID pictures to actually remember who was in their classes. An early afternoon for John, Flint and Thomas meant celebratory milkshakes at their go-to cafe a few blocks from school. 

"I'm being serious, I need to finish English tonight otherwise I'm going to fail and they won't let me graduate." Thomas said, sliding into the booth. Flint and John shared equally exaggerated eye rolls. 

"Thomas, you've literally never gotten a grade below an A minus. You could fail all your exams and still pass your classes." Flint said. 

"You never let me be dramatic." Thomas scoffed, but he was smiling.

"Alright, diva queen, what flavour do you want? I'm paying this time." John interrupted. Flint looked like he wanted to protest that, but a simple but pointed stare made him back down. 

"Usual, please." Thomas beamed. 

"Me too." Flint added. 

"Alright two chocolate." 

"What are you getting?" Flint asked. 

"Double chocolate peanut butter." John grinned like a shark at their twin grimaces.

"You're going to get diabetes if you keep it up. Then they'll have to take your other leg." Thomas said. 

"Ouch, too soon." John feigned hurt for a millisecond before he started laughing. 

 

Standing in line to order, John's attention wandered around the shop. They'd been regulars for the better part of a year, so most of the staff knew their names and orders by heart. One of the new girls had tried to slip John here number, but was quickly turned around by Flint's downright petulant stare and his sudden habit of kissing John every time she drew near. John thought he was acting ridiculous, but he wasn't going to turn down being kissed by Flint, ever.

Shifting from side to side, John's attention slipped to the woman at the front of the line. She was a police officer, slim but tall, blonde hair hanging above her shoulders. Over the chatter of the other customers, John caught snippets of her voice, eerily familiar. Without even realising, John's heart was beating loudly in his chest. He knew her. Her hair was shorter and her uniform slightly altered but he was sure it was her. Deputy Jameson.

Shocked still, John caught her gaze as she stepped to the side. Her first glance was perfunctory, glazing over him. When he moved closer with the line she did a double take. And as soon as their eyes caught again, John could feel that she remembered him.

For a moment she looked completely lost, surprise throwing her for a loop before her face split into the biggest smile and her eyes started to glisten. 

"I can't believe it." Jameson said, coming towards him. John laughed self consciously, mind whirling. Standing in front of him, Jameson stared at him, cataloguing every detail. 

"I can't believe you remember me." It was the truth. He'd often wondered if he ever saw Jameson again, would she recognise him as the kid she used to take home in the back of her squad car? Did he make any impact upon her whatsoever? 

"Kid, not a week goes by where I don't wonder where you ended up. I guess I can finally stop asking myself that question." John stepped out of the line, and they both moved over to let it move without them. 

Still looking him over, Jameson shook her head.  
"You look good, kid. You really do. You're at Maria Aleyne? Nice school. You were always too smart for your own good." They both descended into soft chuckles which tapered off into contemplative silence wherein they just looked at each other for a moment.

"You're the only one who ever visited me you know." He broke their silence first. "In the hospital. Thank you for that." John said and tears welled in Jameson's eyes. 

"Would it be totally uncomfortable if I gave you a hug?" She asked and John huffed a laugh, stepping into her arms. John could still only just match her height. Pulling back, Jameson kept a grip on his shoulders.

"You're doing okay, right? Once you moved out of the neighbourhood I didn't hear a peep about you. You went to new foster parents? Are they good to you?" Her tone took a more serious note and John couldn't fight his smile. 

"They're the closest thing to real parents I'll ever get or ever want. You don't have to worry about me, I'm doing fine." Out of the corner of his eye John could see Flint and Thomas staring at them in confusion, whispering questions to each other. John turned his head and they both stopped whispering, watching him. Following his gaze, Jameson's expression softened. 

"Friends?" She asked. 

"Boyfriends, actually." John corrected her and she laughed. 

"Two of 'em? Thing are really going well for you, aren't they?" She said, waving to them. A little put on the spot, they both waved back automatically and John laughed at them. 

"Yeah, they are." 

After saying their goodbyes and another hug, John ordered their drinks and headed back to their booth, waving at Jameson as she elbowed her way out the door with a coffee cup in each hand. 

"Who on earth was that?" Thomas asked, watching her leave. John smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it's finally done. Took me longer than I'd expected to be honest but I'm glad I didn't abandon it. Thanks to everyone who read, you are all gems.


End file.
